Cruentus
by Zo3ycasaNova
Summary: A couple of days since the attack on Manhattan. After a few days of well deserved rest, the newly formed Avengers figure it was high time for a victory celebration. Drinks all around and all is well at least until an unwelcomed surprise is sent to the tower. Having dealt with an even worst threat days prior, Iron man has no problem dealing with something so insignificant. Note PTSD
1. Madidus

The events that led to the attack on the city of Manhattan left major parts of New York in ruins. A hole had opened up in the sky and let loose an armada of aliens. Led by none other than the envious, power hungry demigod with a personality complex to boot; Loki. After stealing the tesseract from Shield's base of operations he hijacked some of the best minds their headquarters had to offer. Then he set his plan into action, with the use of Professor Erik and his knowledge of dimensional plains he was able to construct a portal in which then later was able to release the creatures later known as the Chitauri.

Even though Loki had managed to separate the Avengers and seemingly knock them down a few pegs. I guess you could say that reindeer games had dashed their hopes of winning. All was at a loss. But with a last ditch effort they managed to pull off the impossible. Even use a nuclear missile to their advantage to take out the mother ship. At the end of the day the newly formed Avengers defended and saved everyone. Loki's motives were still unknown other than the fact that he was aiming for complete world domination.

After all of the craziness that went down it was a wonder the city was even still standing. In retrospect it was in better shape than if it was nuked off of the face of the planet. Sure some buildings were demolished, the streets were torn apart but the city was safe at last. Other than the Chitauri body's that remained as well as a few huge space lizards. The newly formed Avengers could count this as their first ever official victory as a team.

After the battle, Thor took his troublesome brother Loki home to Asgard to be tried for his crimes in attempting to take over the Earth. The Allfather was not proud in the least bit though Loki could honestly care less. He was the god of mischief after all. It was his pleasure to cause trouble. Even if it was just to destroy or enslave another world. It wasn't a mystery as to why since he couldn't rule over his own. Or what he at least thought was his own.

Tony figured rather than to have a huge monument located in the center of New York with his name plastered on the front if it. It would be put to better use as the head quarters for the newly form team of misfits. Or in his words a playhouse for the super wanna be hero freaks. The world however will soon know them as the Avengers.

Even though he would never admit it, the jealous prince taught him something very valuable about himself. That selfishness can be the cause for such a disaster. Although Tony was notorious for being a self centered rich boy he had managed to disband most of his foolhardy habits through team work.

A near death experience can really open someone's eyes to a bunch of different things. One which may be the cruel truth is that humans are weak creatures. They can't stand up to something like what happened the other day. It was a god send that opened their eyes and will forever change their view on how they see the world. They needed to be protected and for some reason he felt there was still more trouble to come. Countless enemies would appear and try to disband their heroic attempts in keeping the peace. But they had to try.

It's funny in a way; even after all of this he never would have imagined himself working well with others. That is unless of course he was the leader of the so called team then maybe. But he didn't care about that, if anything he's just happy to be the benefactor of the group. He was just happy to be a part of the team even though in the beginning it seemed more like a chore than a duty. If it meant anything they really did come through in a time of need and it felt great having a common goal for the greater good. And even though they didn't know each other they managed to pull it off and saved lives. If that doesn't call for a drink than I don't know what does.

...

"Tony maybe it would be a good idea to slow down a bit. I mean just take a break and relax for a while" Bruce was referring to the drink he was in the process of making, which in this case would be his fifth one. Even if he was a rich boy with a high tolerance for alcohol it would still be in his best interest to let up a little. After all drinking yourself into oblivion was not always the best way to party.

"Oh the Incredible Hulk is telling me when I've hit my limit," Tony said jokingly as he began to shake his mixer containing God knows what. The look on the other face however was in distaste. Tony was already hard to deal with sober. Damn near impossible when he's drunk. Whenever he did get that way he had a habit of joking around more than usual. His favorite activity to date as far was poking fun at Banner. Up until he could provoke a reaction out of him. Being he could keep his emotions so well in tact after all. It wasn't such an easy task but it still entertained Tony to try.

"Tony how have you not keeled over from alcohol poisoning yet? I know most that expensive stuff has to be pretty potent." Bruce added sarcastically, knowing full well that it would take a lot more then drunk teasing for him to strike a nerve. Not to mention the other loved playing along. It was a test of whit's and Tony had pictured himself the comedian of the group when in fact it wasn't all that hard to make one smart ass remark after another. Especially for one with the mentality of a genius like himself even when pit against someone just as smart.

"He being a rich boy and all he'd be able afford another liver if he needed to. It's no big deal." Clint scoffed from his seat on the far side of Natasha. Bruce just rolled his eyes at his snide remarks. He figured he was too good to be playing along in this childish game. "Well no one said anyone in particular had to be the funny one." Hawkeye was the one to give him props for a least trying. Thor only joined in once he saw the awkward look on his face when he was denied laughter.

"Hey lighten up a bit Bruce I'm messing with you. Is it so wrong to live a little? After all the crazy things that went on yesterday it's nice just to have a little time to relax you know? And I promise you I won't drink myself to a new liver. That is if it makes you feel any better." He finished his sentence by placing a fresh paper umbrella in a new colorful drink.

"Do what you wanna do. It's none of my business. Just enjoy yourself if that makes you happy." Bruce grumbled thinking the man was too high up on his ego and just tap dancing on his nerves. Probably not a good idea but Tony just loved to push other people's buttons to see how far he could get away with it, even if he wasn't exactly the right person to be doing it to. But hey he's drunk right, that means everybody's a target.

Even so something was bothering him. Although Bruce was playing along it was hard for him to hide his concern. He always felt like he never had or needed anyone to look out for him. He'd always been able to care for himself he had to after what happened to him. After all he had no other choice. Not much in the world could actually harm him. But he liked to watch over others the only ones who he felt actually accepted him for what he was as well as who he was. Not just the monster but as the man. He pictured himself almost as some sort of guardian angel in some ways, probably more of an arc angel in other ways. He narrowed his brows slightly, figuring it wasn't right to joke around about serious matters like that. He'd always had a tendency to jinx things.

"Why thank you my sweet prince in green. How about you Captain, ready for another drink? I'll make you one if you want." Tony tilted his drink towards the blond sitting on the couch before taking a sip. "I make a mean daiquiri. Any flavor you want."

Steve looked up at the other in the bar and shook his head. "I'm fine. I'll just stick to beer, can't get drunk anyway so no big deal." He'd been unnaturally quiet all day and Tony was about desperate to get anything out of him, even a chuckle would be nice. Being a downer doesn't suit him well, from all he's heard he should be the light of the party. Telling an old war story or something, it's weird seeing him so quiet almost like he's lost or something.

Maybe he's still thinking about what happened to Coulson. It was unbelievable that the imp got the best of him. It's to think we'll never be able to hear his sarcastic remarks anymore; the man was a great agent and an even better man. He died with upmost honor. The world will just be a bit bleaker without him in it. His death however was in no way meaningless, it may have been the deciding factor that would finally bring a bunch of misfits together. They did after all, especially when the world needed them most and someone had to be avenged.

"Alright Mr. Sour Puss you can be like that if you want, it doesn't hurt me one bit." He said with a snob taking another huge gulp as he walked out from behind the counter and plopped himself on the couch. Natasha swirled her martini and sighed, sharing occasional glances with Bruce from where he sat across from her on the other couch the other blushing before looking away in embarrassment. It was quite an entertaining sight since Thor enjoined the squabbles of normal people. He chuckled and took another swig of the fine aged Asgardian whiskey from a jeweled silver flask.

"Thor, you look like you're enjoying yourself quite a bit over there." Tony said with a smug grin painted on his face.

"This idea of romance you humans have on Earth is so subtle compared to that of Asgard. Jane is the complete opposite of how normal people how you say 'flirt'. When I first met her she hit me with her metal carrier. Now that's a woman." He finished with a smile.

Steve and Natasha looked up at the blond with raised eyebrows, Tony only laughing at the far end of them. Clint shared in on the chuckle; Bruce just shook his head then looked at his glass of water. He could see his reflection on the liquid. Every time he'd move it'd ripple slightly, distorting the image.

"What's wrong Bruce?" Steve asked. "You look a little out of it."

"Oh its nothing, it's just so many things have changed all at once. It's a little overwhelming or at least for me it is. I went from helping sick families in a Third World country where no one had no idea who or what I was, to being recruited by the very people I've spent most of my days trying to avoid. Then to turn into the other guy that I've been keeping locked up for so long out of the safety for other people but this it was the exact opposite. But in the end it really didn't even matter now did it." Bruce said sulking in his seat a little bit.

"Hey it's not so bad. We're all a bunch of freaks here and besides you've somehow managed to learn how to control the shift. You're a hero now not a monster you helped save the lives of hundreds of people. Hell maybe even the whole planet from that power hungry god." Steve finished his sentence as if someone had dripped a bitter poison on his tongue.

The thought of that little pipsqueak getting the best of them almost brought his blood to a boil. He was never afraid of him. He was just another bully trying to pick on an innocent bystander. People like that needed to be put in their place.

"Hey!"

"No offense Thor but your kid brothers got a few kogs missing from his machinery up stairs and the only go I believe in wouldn't be a battle crazed race of barbarians, again no offense Thor." Steve quickly retaliated, not meaning to insult the man but rather to speak him mind. Which he'd always did.

"What the striped man says is true. You are an ideal contribution to this team, even if you're just as barbaric as an Asgardian warrior." He finished his sentence by raising his fist in admiration. There were few in the universe that could impress the God of Thunder. Let alone he'd find one of them to be on what he had always thought to of been a little insignificant planet he'd otherwise overlook. There was much here that impressed him not just a giant in a little man.

"Hey look at it this way. If the tesseract had never of been stolen you wouldn't have been able to meet this awesome guy." Tony smiled and pointed his thumb at himself.

Bruce chuckled somehow feeling a little better than he did. Probably because he had hardy known any of these people for more than a week and they were comfortable around him. He never thought that there would be anybody who would accept him, being a freak and all. He liked the feeling of acceptance. It had been so long since he felt like he actually had a purpose. Or even at home, like he had friends that were more like a family to him. That cared. "Thanks guys. I needed that."

"Hey don't get all sentimental on us now. I don't do gushy." Tony stated, finishing off his drink.

"Oh it's not that. It's just I guess I forgot how it felt to be treated like a person and not something that'll just level a house or fend off an entire army." Bruce admitted, swirling his water once more before taking a sip.

Natasha arched her eyebrows at the last comment he'd made. If anyone understood how he felt it was her. The only reason she was born was to become an assassin with absolutely no emotion. So is to never get attached and potentially fail a mission. That was her entire purpose in life, to serve. For once she was beginning to feel exactly the way he was describing. Like she belonged and wasn't just a battle ready pawn. Perhaps she was regaining what little emotion she had left.

She stood from her seat without a single word and set her drink down on the end table, turned and walked off towards the bathroom. Just because she wasn't a loud to show emotion didn't mean it wasn't there, hiding just underneath the surface. It was her strength, even if she was told it was to be a weakness. It gave her a reason to continue doing what she did best to escape the past and work towards something worth it, for herself and no one else.

But she was actually happy here. That mission to collect the big guy and rally up a team of misfits was the best thing she could of done. Spending most her time as a solo miracle informant was what she thought was her expertise. Who knew she'd work so well with a team of untrained, unqualified, undignified bunch of outsider. But in introspect she has glad things turned out the way they did.

She looked at herself in the mirror and smirked at the thought of working with this group even longer than she had anticipated. Now that Tony decided to generously donate the tower to the cause; the Avengers initiative. She was going to see a lot more of them in the near future. She was ok with this. She just kind of had the feeling she didn't really belong. After all her and Clint were on a completely different level compared to the rest. But they needed the knowhow as well as the authority. They were after all the most qualified to handle things in hazardous situations.

"What's her problem?" Tony said a little too loudly. He was always a loud drunk, subconsciously wanting to be the life of the party. In some cases he was but with this lot it seems like no one really wanted to celebrate at the moment. It was a bummer but I guess for some reason there were always things that need to be done, unfinished business as you will. Post battle contemplation just a bunch of stuff. As well as things he just couldn't understand.

"It's fine Tony I just need a moment." Natasha she said from around the corner. She had the acute hearing of an owl which was a must when she needed to hear an interrogation taking place in room all the way on the other end of the hall. Tony on the other hand shrunk a little not expecting the Black Widow to hear him from where he was. She always made him nervous, ever since first meeting her.

He thought it best to leave her alone. After working with her a few times before the actual Avengers got together he learned it was never a good thing to be on her bad side. He was a person that learned from trial and error but she was one he didn't want to test. Almost like a chemical experiment that had to be taken cautiously or else it could potentially be hazardous and life threatening.

"Well in any case are you ok now Brucey? I mean you have us now don't you?" Tony smiled his rosy red cheeks reflecting his level of maturity but he was being as sincere as he could. This meant something. That they all cared for him even though they didn't know him all that well or of what he'd done in the past. Maybe they did and didn't even care. But one thing was true. That even though you can have a checkered past that you are in control of your future and what you make of it. Love the sinner not the sin or even the monster.

"I mean your words must have struck close to home for Widow over there. She was practically trained to disregard her own feelings for the sake of some mission. The most of us are considered outcasts you're not the only one. What all have our faults and antics but we we're all here for a reason. We help people even though we've all had shady pasts." Out of all the idiotic things he'd said all day, that remark was by far the wisest he'd heard from Tony all day. It was the truth; all of them were considered broken birds without the wings to fly, although together they could soar however far they wanted to. I mean look at what they accomplished just a few days ago. They worked as a team for the first time and together they saved everyone. And that was something to be proud of.


	2. Incursus

"Mr. Stark." A well mannered, artificial voice sounded from the corner of the room. The AI came across as a distorted mash of floating orange data that arranged itself on a large monitor hanging from the ceiling. It spoke calmly as always but for some reason this time there was a tinge of urgency in its words.

"Yes Jarvis." His creator replied calmly before taking a swig of fresh bitter alcohol. As it slid down his throat as an icy river yet still burning ever inch it traveled down into his system. It caused slight shivers to run up and down his spine, this was the feeling he loved from the burning to the tingling sensations. It was a plus to the real reason he drank and after a while he'd learned to love all of its effects. Well except for the morning after hangover.

"My radar's informing me the there is an incoming missile and it's headed straight for the tower Sir." Jarvis quickly informed the lot as he took the liberty of pulling up some of the current satellite feed. The Stark Company being one of the most technologically advanced in the world as well as one of the most profitable companies as well had loads of excess wealth. Not to mention the largest global guiding systems as well, over 20 satellites orbited the planet. It seemed like it could have been used for way more than just targeting for nukes. Being that the Avengers would be saving people more regularly now that they're were officially a team. The tech had a new purpose, crazy that the first alert would be a threat sent directly to their door.

"Wait what!? Tony which direction is it coming from!?" Steve said aloud as he stood from his seat. He walked over to the black haired genius who was punching numerous keys by the huge monitor. Jarvis minimized into nothing but a few voice bars in the corner of the screen the sky above Manhattan on full display.

"From the information that Jarvis collected it appears it'll hit the tower within 15 minutes or so. That is unless we can destroy it before it demolishes the tower. It's still pretty far away and it shouldn't take much to destroy it before it can get any closer. Lucky for us Jarvis spotted it before it got too close for comfort." Tony said, slurring his words just a tad but still adequately informing the all too eager super soldier.

"Thanks captain obvious." Clint said while walking over to join the others as he placed a hand to his side as he watched Tony configure to screen, beer still in hand. Even though he was trained to be calm in extreme situations, he still seemed a bit more lax than he should have been; this was after all an emergency. Probably because of all the critical missions he'd been involved in as well as being utterly out matched during the attack on Manhattan. Someone else could take care of it for once, they were qualified enough, plus it was his day off anyway.

"You're welcome little birdie." He retorted with a hint of sarcasm. "I'll just go out there real quick and blast it before it gets any closer." Tony said before activating a few switches, in seconds pieces of armor were being lowered from hidden places in the ceiling. The robotic arms very carefully set and locked every piece into place, which was extremely useful when you were to the point of intoxication where you couldn't even be able put on a pair of pants even if you wanted to. Bruce walked over his arms crossed until he placed one of his hands on the newly hyped mans shoulder, before it became covered in a thick shell of metal. Tony glanced back to the man, glassy eyed but way more serious and alert.

"Tony you really are drunk off your ass and shouldn't be operating your suit while you're this intoxicated. Ever heard of drunk driving I'm certain flying a tank suit is way worst. What if you crash or hit the wrong button and self destruct or something?" Bruce said sounding angrier than he was meaning to. Although he was nowhere near losing control of himself. He'd had enough of that to last for a week although his tone with more of a combination of seriousness and concern rather than anger.

"Yea and don't forget to wear your seat belt Tony. Remember click it or ticket." Clint interjected with a snobbish resonance in his laughter obviously attempting to be the funny man in this situation. No one was buying it. Everyone either looked nervous or near discussed, well the ones that acknowledged him did. Honestly Bruce and Steve were too caught up in the situation to be bothered by his unusual ignorance.

If anything the ones who remotely registered his words gave him a dirty look for not taking the situation at least half seriously, being a Shield agent and all. Natasha was especially disappointed but if anybody knew him it was her. It was never wise to give him too much to drink this is how he got after one too many. I mean it started out as a celebration after all. Unfortunately that didn't change the way Natasha thought about it."Really Clint.. You pick now to make a lame ass joke..." She said judging her friend and coworker.

"Oh I got an idea. How about you and your fancy arrows fly right up there and detonate the missile yourself without blowing your body apart. Or I have an even better idea I could throw you over there and you can magically ride it into oblivion utterly saving us all." Tony said not even giving the man the satisfaction of looking into his eyes as he retorted. He just continued to suit up. After all he was the best drunk and better with sarcasm.

Clint said nothing as he took another sip from his beer. "Shouldn't take too long it's not that big of a deal." With that last comment he turned on his heel and sat down on the couch in a huff like a child. Natasha went to join him only to exchange in professional conversation and to remind them just exactly who he was and what organization he was representing. Also most likely to tell him it'd be a good idea to let up a bit, at least until the threat had been dealt with.

"I figured as much. I may be slightly stooped but I'm not incapable of functioning." Tony said snidely in satisfaction as the remaining pieces of his suit were placed and locked together. His helmet being the last to be attached, he made it to were the face plate remained up so they could still look him in the eye when they talked. He shifted slightly under the metal shell before walking over and opened up the glass panels between the room and the balcony with a little remote. He rushed outside and took a quick look around to see if he could spot the missile in the direction Jarvis calculated, Steve and Bruce not far behind him.

It wouldn't take long before it would hit so he'd have to deal with it while it was a safe distance away from them or any other buildings. His radar quickly picked up the location and distance of it. It was less than a mile out from the tower. He figured he had enough of wasting time and the quicker he dealt with this the quicker he could get back and relax. He put his arms parallel to his side and boosted his thrusters, taking off into the air.

Steve and Bruce figured it'd better to observe from the roof where they could see just about everything, just in case something was to go wrong. They walked over to the side of the balcony where there was a ladder that led to the very top of the building. Steve was first to climb which took mere seconds compared to Bruce who steadily followed him. The others stayed inside not having much interest in watching. It wasn't too exciting since Tony pretty much blew up something on a daily basis.

The duo walked over to the center of the gravel roof top and sat down next to each other to watch and wait. The beams of light from his thrusters slowly began to blend with the sky as Tony went out to greet the smoke exhausting missile sent by an unknown alias. He seemed like more of a streak of blinding color with a red speck tip. If you didn't know what you were looking for you would simply think of it as a passing jet or something rather than a one person suit. Although after the crazy things that have been happening around here lately, people would begin to think otherwise.

"Hey Bruce are you really ok. You've just seemed really off today. I mean I haven't known you for very long but you always seemed pretty upbeat even if you are you know." Steve blatantly mentioned, I guess in attempts at making small talk. That or it was high time he got to know the real Bruce and not just what he's heard in the briefing he got not that long ago when he first met him. From what he's heard and what he's learned from working with the man, they were two totally different given aspects. He was very impressed by what he was capable of but in another sense deep down he could understand what it's like to be different also not fitting in as well as you would initially like.

"Yea I'm ok now. It's just now and then I get so overwhelmed with what I am and this is a totally different environment. It's just so weird that you guys don't resent me for what I can become. Over the years it's caused me nothing but pain and suffering to me and others. I hated myself for a long time now. I've found myself with nothing to look forward too, nothing to live for. I've gone on like that for such a long time so I started helping people those that didn't have the means to help themselves. I'm just not used to all this you know? Everything happened so fast."

"I went from constant depression and attempted suicide to helping to heal the sick. It was a simple pleasure but it kept me from hating myself more than I already did. Then all of a sudden Natasha was sent to find me of all people to recruit into the Avengers. But not for the muscle but for the brain, for the person I was and not the thing I became, she wanted the scientist but not the monster. I'd have to admit however the other guy really came in handy toward the end."

Bruce liked the idea of working with others that put their faith in him. Who trusted him even though they hardly knew him; they knew more about what he'd done rather then what he was capable of. But since they've seen him that way and actually take control they could care less about what he's done in the past and more of what he was capable of doing in the future. For the first time in a long time he had hope.

Steve absorbed ever word he spoke as though it were scripture. The tone he used was intense and near shattering. He had been threw a lot, way more than Steve could ever imagine. In truth he hadn't been around for the time of the Hulk to know the harm he's caused. But he had an act of reading people and to him it was the man who was worth knowing. Not the history or rumors, most of what he has heard was all one sided and destructive. But with one simple chat with the person who carried the monster within him he could tell there was a deep sorrow that he also carried with him.

"I know it's odd but I kind of have the feeling of being an outcast most of the time. I really don't belong in this day and age, like I'm just some old timer from the past that has no idea what's going on. Everything here is so confusing and I'm friends with someone how confuses me on a daily basis just by trying to explain something to me. What's even crazier is he's the son of my friend back in the day and we look the same age. But the point is even if I feel like I don't belong, there always seems to be people who need me, need someone to depend on."

"Not just to be the muscle but also the influence and the guide that gets good people back on the track to being the best they can be as well as doing what is right. I've always been like that, even when I didn't have the strength to protect people that never stopped me from trying. Believe it or not but I used to be just shy of 5 feet when I entered the service and now I guess you could say they kind of made me into a monster. I may not have the technical know-how like the rest of you guys. But I'm glad to be of use to such an outstanding group of wonderful people."

Steve smiled when he finished speaking. His words truly came from the bottom of his heart and even though the people he once knew were either dead or senile he felt as though he had a purpose. As well as people who cared about him. Bruce looked sincerely towards the other who was almost moved to tears. Whether it was because of being where he was now in time or rather the people he'd never be able to see again.

He wasn't so used to being accepted the way he was here or having people who actually understand where he was coming from. Everyone was here for a reason; they all had their own experiences that set them apart. So it was nice to have a place where he could actually fit in. Now that his consciousness was somewhat clearer than it had been he was able to feel that he actual held a place in this world.

All that was left now was for Tony to destroy the missile then they could go back to truly enjoying each other's company this time. Now that the elephant was out of the room the two of them felt as though they could actually relax this time. Even if that meant dealing with the ultimate joker drunk, sir Iron Man himself. He chuckled at his untold remark then redirecting his sights up in the sky to watch his friend.

...

Tony flew as fast as his arc reactor could power. Knowing full well it wouldn't take much long before the missile would reach its destination. He had at least a couple minutes left to destroy it. He had much practice in blowing these sort of things up. Since he'd pretty much showed up on the front doorstep of multiple terrorist organizations and ruin their day. He hated the use of bombs on the public. Given he used to manufacture and sell them to who ever had the means to buy them. That's how he made his fortune, with blood money.

He swore on that day he would never sell another weapon used to hurt people ever again. The light installed in his ribcage was a constant reminder of that one fact, as well as the shrapnel from his own weaponry. Weapons that were designed to help protect the people of his country, and yet their pieces will be forever imbedded in his body as a punishment for his eagerness. What made matters worse was that fact that his company sold to whoever was willing to buy. Especially those who threatened the vary security of the nation. Terrorists who kidnapped and held him at ransom just to ensure they got exactly what they wanted. It was hard being held up in a cave with only a car battery and his whit's to liberate himself. Never again. Not now not ever.

He made a promise to himself and Yinsen that that would never happen ever again. So long as there was breathe in his body not another weapon manufactured under his name will be used in the name of false justice. He was better than that after all, he was better than his father who built an inexhaustible addition to modern war from the ground up. He could use his mind for the greater good, something over violence. The Iron man was an exception, just a tool to help clean up the mess he made.

Tony hovered directly in front of the incoming projectile; a thick dark gray trail of toxic concentrated smoke leading behind it. The missile itself however wasn't anything out of ordinarily just a typical run of the mill version of the cheapest thing Tony himself could manufacture back in high school. Nothing to get overly carried away with, especially not something he would unleash his entire arsenal out on. I mean sure even if it was as small and pathetic as it may be, it could definitely cause some tedious damage to his beautiful tower.

He must have been about 100 yard away from the missile by this point although it was coming in pretty fast it was still far from the city. Maybe less than five minutes or so before it would actually hit anything. Tony glanced around the area for a second and figured this would be the best place if any to detonate the projectile. It was nowhere near anything that would take on damage; it was being far enough away. Right outside the city just before it could be met with any sort of skyscraper.

He just happened to be right above one of the many highways that were not so highly traveled. Lucky for him the falling debris wouldn't cause that much of trouble in this location. At least it wasn't above any of the major schools or coffee shops or God forbid anything else of the sort. In fact he couldn't have picked been a better spot even if he'd tried.

One well placed, concentrated blast should be all he would need to explode the insignificant threat. He held out his right arm, keeping the other down at his side in order to maintain his stability. Jarvis targeted the missile through the suits system and locked onto its exact coordinates. He held his position and charged of up a fair amount of energy in his palm to blast a hole straight threw a cinder block building with little resistance. He waited until it was nearly in front of his face before he finally shot a bright blue ray in its direction.

In an instant it exploded into a stunning display of smoke and fiery red inferno that seemed to burn as hot as the pits of Hell itself. He liked to wait until the very last second for dramatic effect, that and the explosion would be spectacular. It indeed was but the light it brought with it momentarily blinded him and as a reaction he squeezed his eyelids shut and instinctively threw his arm up to shield his eyes. Light sensitivity was a natural symptom of being for lack of a better word shit faced.

The shock wave was much greater than he's originally expected that as well as the blinding flash of light. 'Somebody must have been playing prank on us or something. That was hardly a threat, more of a nuisance really.' Tony thought to himself as bits and pieces of debris lightly pelted his armor. Nowhere near able to a dent in his suit, after all it was meant to deflect bullets and all other attacks.

One large piece did hit him rather hard however; way more than he'd anticipated. It just about knocked the wind out of him; making him fly back several feet before he caught himself. The hit made him momentarily lose focus and unable to breathe for a moment. He quickly shook off the shortness of breath he was feeling in his chest as he watched whatever was left of the missile rain down from the sky. Streaks of black smoke plummeted to the face of the Earth.

He chuckled to himself in satisfaction, quickly spinning a complete 180 in the sky before he flew in the direction of the new Avengers headquarters. With an unsatisfied hankering for vodka on the rocks as his post victory drink. Feeling as though there was one more reason to continue the celebration, since he had 'saved the day' once more. Though he was working more towards lowering his ego it would surely take a while. This was Tony Stark after all.

It wouldn't take him no more than 2 minutes reached his destination but for some reason it seems farther than it was. I guess you could say was more impatient than he had realized. Being as anxious as he was he'd at least figured it wouldn't of been a complete waste of his time. It should have been more of a threat than it was. Oh well beggars can't be choosers.

In some ways he felt disappointed; at least he thought it would have been mildly exciting, definitely not nearly as exciting as a few days ago. He thought about it for a second and then shook the thought out of his head. He never wanted to be put in the situation ever again. It hated doing anything death deifying, that last time was way too close for comfort. He flew at mock speed until he was directly above the tower and slowly lowered himself down until he could see Bruce and Steve who were patiently waiting for him.


	3. Propter Letum

"See no big deal." Tony said switching off his boosters, making a loud thud as the full weight of his suit hit the stone patio. Steve and Bruce had watched the whole ordeal from the roof top and weren't surprised that he was well able to handle the small projectile. He's had more than enough experience with handling these kinds of things, even if he'd had more than a little much to drink. Considering he probably took joy rides out in the night sky drunk as hell whenever he felt bored or in need of a thrill after he'd been working for a long time.

Tony was probably the only person that would never make a mistake on the job even while intoxicated. He was just that brilliant sometimes even if didn't have very much self control and the remainder of the time he acted like a self loathing jackass. The others had to admit after that day the Earth was attacked he'd strive to make a bit of a change. Even if it was a small change he would eventually catch on. They could only hope so.

"Good job solider." Steve said smiling.

"At ease Capsicle," Tony said half assing a salute. He flipped his face plate up and flashed one of his trademark cheesy smiles paired with a set of bloodshot glassy eyes. Steve's own smile melted into more of a scowl. He hated the nickname Tony made for his supposed superior; it was a little degrading to him, somewhat of a cruel reminder of being frozen in a hunk of ice for more or less 70 years. But he knew it was just a lighter way to think of his past, which in after a while he could actually look back on and laugh. It was almost like a form of closure however childish it was.

"Fine then good job paper weight." He shot back at the man, who was obviously not expecting a retort. He was always led to believe that the Captain wasn't capable of joking around and having a good time. He had to be serious being the leader and a hard ass all the time. But he had to give the man some props, that was a good comeback.

He only looked back and decided to let it slide replacing his remark with a sly smile. Bruce watched the two and sighed out of relief. He was glad all was well, after all that heated conflict. But for some reason he still couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen.

The three started walking towards the opened glass panels. They prepped themselves for the rest their celebration especially now that the minor disruption had been dealt with. Tony already making darting glances towards the bar, some could say those were signs of an alcoholic, although Tony liked to think of it as more of a prideful luxury. He'd always been accustomed to drinking but when you're one of the riches people in the world. With an inexhaustible amount of money you tend to pick up habits. He felt different though, a sick feeling down in the pit of his stomach.

Tony had a tendency to brush off any sort of uneasiness, especially health wise. He hated doctors. Anyways he just figured he must have been hungry or something, I mean when in doubt food is the answer. After all, blowing up missiles and saving the day once again could work up quite an appetite.

His mind was stuck between whether or not he should make an omelet first or another drink. He seemed to miss a beat in his step. Almost like he awkwardly lost control of his motor skills, no matter how drunk he got he was able to right himself. He took a couple steps before his knee buckled and stumbled down into a kneeling position, bracing the fall with his forearm before completely embracing the floor. There was something utterly wrong with this picture. He blinked a few times to comprehend what just happened but it only made his vision blur.

His head pounded against the side of his skull blocking out all of the surrounding noise. All he could hear was the muffled footsteps of his teammates as they rushed over to him. The ones who were already at his side were immediately to his aid. Calling out to him in order to find out what was instigating his affliction, but they seemed as only distant echoes to him, too far away to recognize. He started to cough feeling something wet begin to run down his chin. Through his hazy vision he started seeing dark spots forming on the floor in front of him.

Steve and Bruce each took one of his arms and wrapped it around their shoulder, gently hoisting Tony to his feet. The duo walked the man all the way inside and set him down carefully on the tile, leaning him up against the wall until they could figure out what was the cause of his discomfort. "What is wrong with the man of Iron?! Did he not destroy the explosive heading this way!?" Thor burst into the quarrel utterly concerned and confused, looking at the countries captain and the not so green man for answers.

"No I got it.. But I didn't think I was that drunk..." Tony said slowly coming back to reality now that he was settled, although his head was swimming and the throbbing feeling has yet cease. In fact he felt sick to him stomach and hunched over expecting to vomit all over. Hoping it would finally relive this sick feeling.

Only surprising the others to see nothing but a flurry of red liquid expel from his mouth. Tony followed with a sinking feeling to mend with the floor. He slowly lifted his head up paled and beaded in sweat. He drifted back but was caught by Bruce and Steve before he could hit the hard surface. They laid him down on the floor.

"Look down at his side. There's something stuck in him!" Clint quickly pointed out. The others looked down where he was pointing. There was a large shard of metal that seemingly sliced threw his high tech armor as if it was as thin as paper, piercing his left side.

"Clint go call an ambulance! Quick!" Bruce said beginning to hyperventilate while this friend was slowly bleeding out inside a shell meant to protect him. Who at the moment was wriggling partly to shock and another part to a drunken state of pure adrenaline. He took fast shallow breaths not entirely sure what was going on.

"Bruce.. If you keep calm.. I'll let you.. Tinker with some of my... New toys in the lab.." Tony said panting through gritting teeth. With every word a small amount of blood would bypass the enamel barricade and trickle down in the crease of his parted lips as he managed a weak smile.

The hysterical gamma scientist took deep breaths to calm himself out of having a complete meltdown which in any case would be the most unhelpful thing he could do at the moment. A nine foot tall green monster with a temper problem was not needed for this mission. Time is what they needed and they were quickly running out of it.

At least they didn't have to spend much time calming the man bleeding out on the tile. Being as drunk as he was somehow kept him in high enough spirits to realize the extent of what happened. Not to mention the amount of adrenaline that was pumping threw him to keep him from noticing how bad he'd been injured. One moment he rocketed up in the sky. The next blowing up a simple missile he spent most of his life manufacturing. Safely landing in hopes of chatting and carrying on with his friends and then to just end up laying belly up with a thick shard of metal sticking out of him.

"Before we can remove that shard we need to get him out of that armor. I don't want to risk the extra resistance. It'll cause more harm than good, by that I mean unnecessary damage to his body." Steve being the one with tactical medical training from his army days knew the effect of not being properly prepared for serious injuries like this. Tony just stared blankly back at him as he barked orders.

Jarvis had taken the liberty of unhinging most of the Iron Man armor once he'd found the breach. However the abdomen was the one exception, which needed to be removed manually. Steve and Natasha at the moment were rummaging through Tony's tools looking for his special metal cutters, Bruce remained by his side.

Thor came along side of him carrying one of the couch pillows. It was best to keep his head elevated, from the looks of it the shard might of hit something vital. He slid it gently up underneath the others head and knelt down next to the scientist. The two carefully removed each piece.

"Hey... If it means anything.. I guess you were right.. My motor skills that is.. They were delayed." Tony redirected his eyes towards Bruce.

"It's not always about being right. Besides no one could of guessed that something like this would be inside that thing. I watched you the whole time and you did everything right. We just should have taken the situation a lot more seriously even if we knew how to handle it. But you're not the one to blame." In a way he knew something like this would happened but he could have never of expected this.

In a way he almost blamed himself for not compromising on a best strategy. Though no one could have seen something like this coming, after all the Iron Man armor was supposed to be near invincible. It's like someone planned it out and targeted Tony. Knowing that he would of went up there and dealt with it. "You're going to be ok Tony." Steve interjected as he and Natasha rushed over with the cutters.

"Pshaw I know that... I'm indestructible remember?.." The cruel reality of it however was that he was the weakest among them without his armor, the most vulnerable. He tilted his head to the side and spat out a mouthful of blood all over the floor. In a daze turned back towards the others, his jaw covered in a crimson red. He hadn't felt it at first being that alcohol dulls the senses, as well as the burst of adrenaline, but the pain was slowly setting in.

"Oh no.. We need to hurry! Lift his head up a bit more. It must have punctured his lung. It's filling up with blood!" Bruce quickly deducted as Steve began cutting his suit open from the bottom up, quickly and cautiously as he could manage. But it seemed with every squeeze down on the handle brought with it a flurry of pain.

"Tony, this is gonna suck really bad. So here bite down on this." Bruce rolled a small clean towel into a neat roll and placed it between the man's teeth. Without hesitation he clenched onto it and nearly bit threw it, bracing himself for the worst part. The other lightly set his hands on his shoulders to keep him still.

Natasha knelt down behind him, taking his head it into her arms and gently stroking his hair rhythmically in order to calm his nerves. She always been gentle even though she'd come across tougher than nails and then some. The same woman who wouldn't hesitate to snap an arm in order to get what she wanted. Not many people had seen the caring side of her. Especially not Tony unfortunately he wasn't over thinking that little detail much at the moment.

Steve slid the oversized cutters underneath the thick metal and started to cut with unhindered concentration, it being as gentle as if he'd done this sort of thing on a regular basis. He knew just one quick move would be hell on Tony. It was funny to think after all his years he'd never had to cut a man of a body suit, especially one made of God knows what. But with his strength he drove it where it needed to be. After a few good presses from his overly sized arms it finally split at the object. He and Thor, who had been waiting patiently, worked to pry the shell open just enough to get Tony out.

After what seemed like hours of torture to Tony had ceased within minutes. With every cut Steve made, came paired along with it a grunt or a wheeze by the man. Every jolt of pain was hard but manageable at least for someone like Tony. Alas he was far from out of the woods. It was time to move on to the glistening steak that was still sticking out of him, which would be way harder to remove. Even when compared to splitting open indestructible armor.

"I'm going to count to three ok?" Steve informed the other so he could brace himself. Tony clenched his eyes shut and involuntary reached for Bruce's pant leg, grabbing it tightly. The pain was already unbearable. He could barely stand getting his suit cut open with this thing sticking out of him. It's like now that there wasn't any resistance, he was steadily getting worst.

Steve began to count down from one than on two he pulled as gently and quickly as possible at the angle it was set. Figuring it was better than the suspense of waiting till the count of three. The less expectant the quicker it would go and it would hurt less than when tensing in preparation. It was a trick he learned during the war. There were a lot of casualties that had to be dealt with as quickly and cautiously as possible.

Tony not used to such a pain let out a bloodcurdling scream. One that made all the all the other Avengers cringe. Natasha tried her best to keep the other still bit even the sound of him in pain was even unbearable for even the master assassin who tortured people for a living. Thor held his wriggling body still throughout the calamity to prevent further affliction.

The shard was of significant size, about eight inches long and looked as if it was chiseled into a spear like projectile. Someone had planted it in the missile just hoping that one of them would take the bait. Which had happened, Steve didn't pay much attention to the object once he dislodged it from his friends' body. He couldn't care less where it came from as he slid the object away, more worried about Tony at the moment. He moved closer to him his hands coated heavily in blood.

Tony's eyes were wide and seemed permanently fixated on the ceiling. Natasha continued to hold his head but his sight never appeared to shift; almost like he was having an inward struggle with in consciousness at the moment. The blood engulfed the small area once there was no longer anything stopping the flow.

"Tony please stay with me," His voice came out as near pleading not usual for the man who simulated the embodiment of strength and power. It didn't look right to see Steve begging.

Blood drenched the already torn apart Def Leopard shirt Tony had been wearing underneath his suit even more. The huge gaping hole in the man looked like nothing more than a tunnel of shredded flesh. It looked sickening but the others had so many past experiences with gruesome injures in the field that it was tolerable. Well at least for the ones looking at it. Not for the one enduring it.

His eyelids felt like they were weighted down by some unending force. His vision blurring even more but he knew he had to hold out. Just a little bit longer. He coughed lightly with whatever he could manage, sending a light fraction of blood trailing down his cheek. Natasha sulked slightly while she wiped the liquid away from his face clean with the towel held on his forehead. "Thank you Natasha.." Steve let out slowly. She looked up at the super soldier and nod as if to say no problem whatsoever.

The open wound in his side was bleeding way more now. Especially after what little cough Tony could manage, it seemed to explode with dark liquid. Bruce briskly ran to the kitchen and grabbed a clean dish towel, folded it and handed it to Steve who placed it over the wound and pressed firmly down on it. Tony panted lightly and winced at the applied pressure. He was riddled in sweat and the back of his neck was all wet. She brushed the hair off of his face as delicately as she could as if the man would shatter any minute. Bruce knelt down the opposite of Steve and waited, not able to pry his eyes away from Tony's pathetic state. Now all they could really do now was to wait for help to arrive.


	4. Timentes

"The ambulance is here!" Clint said rushing through the side doors over to the others.

"Maybe there's hope for us yet." Thor said cheerfully, having only known these mortals for less than a week was actually beginning to feel sympathetic towards them. He felt nervous about what was to become of the man of iron. But he held hope after growing up watching warriors from his land lay down their lives day after day. He'd found it more of a routine, you live and die for what you believe in. He watched friends of his fight and eventually slain in battle. But this, this was somehow different. They know each other for a pathetic amount of time, nowhere long enough to care what would happen to them.

They've drank together, joked together, and fought alongside each other for the sake of everyone on this defenseless little planet he's grown to love; to make matters worse the common enemy was his troublesome brother. They could have executed him right when they caught him but they were kind enough to let him go back where he belonged. They didn't have to do that and for their generosity he would be indebted to them. But even so he didn't want to see him die in such a pitiful state after celebrating such a glorious victory.

"Someone has to stay and guard the tower, if there is someone who sent the original missile then what to say they won't send a second one, we can't take any more chances. Thor you got the thunder power in case we someone to detonate another one from a distance."

"Clint you've got eyes in the sky. Keep a look out for anything suspicious and make sure Jarvis stays online, I have a feeling someone is planning something." Steve ordered the others. Making sure the situation stayed under control and didn't get any worst. However it was that sent the first threat took advantage of their defenses being lowered and well as their initially raise spirits.

They already had one in an extreme state they didn't need more. He held the dish towel over the entry wound but it was quickly soaking threw. He made sure to apply steady pressure but not to hurt the injured man with his extra super human strength, which would only cause more harm than good. He ripped a strip of fabric from the bottom of his shirt and bound the cloth tightly around his waist.

"Ste.. Steve.. " Tony was to the point where he could hardly choke out any words. "I'm scared.." He was losing blood fast. He continued to spit up mouthfuls of blood and some ran out of his nose. Steve narrowed his eyebrows and wiped away the liquid using the sleeve of the casual jacket he was wearing. He hated seeing the highly respected man in such a pitiful state. It killed him. He had known his father long before coming to know Tony and he's surpassed him in so many was. He admired the man and was not going let this be the end of him. So help him.

"Tony don't worry about a thing. The worst is over. It's up hill from here keep that in mind ok?" He smiled, trying his best to comfort him. From what he'd learned from experience on the battlefield the best thing you can do is to just keep up hope. He wasn't able to predict the future but nothing good can come from being pessimistic. That wouldn't help whatsoever; he just didn't want to lose Tony. He was the only tether to his past. He was his ally and friend, the son of Howard.

Steve's expression tightened when he knelt down to pick up the broken man. As he worked his hand behind his neck he felt how cold he had gotten. His skin was like ice and extremely pale compared to his usual tan complexion, he'd lost so much blood it was no wonder. He knew he had to hurry if there was any chance of saving him. He worked his other arm under his legs and gently hoisted him up. He leant his head up against his shoulder, him nuzzling just in the crook of Steve's neck. Tony seeming to swoon as Steve cradled him in his arms. Steve was so gentle every move he made was so subtle and well calculated. He could run all the way down the stairs right now and never disturb him, but he refused to take the chance.

He dashed for the elevator not taking a chance in waiting for the paramedics to come all the way up to the first floor with a stretcher. They were trained professionals he knew that, but time was of the essence and even if they knew whose life was at stake they still took too long. The only thing that truly mattered at the moment was that the ambulance was here waiting down stairs. The rest was irrelevant, just as long as he could get him medical help, all would be well... He could only hope.

Bruce followed behind them and pressed the bottom that would take them to the lobby floor, the doors automatically closing after them. He stayed by their side and tended to the one in the other's arms. Steve leaned up against the metallic wall of the elevator and patently waited as the floor passed slowly. Tony was slowly fading and he could tell he was starting to fight just to stay conscious. Fresh blood continued to flow from the wound and leaving a trail wherever it fell. Even though he bound him to the best of his abilities before they left, it continued to seep through. Bruce held his hand down on the makeshift bandages to cover it. Both their hands as well as their clothes were stained red. It looked like they just murdered somebody, but there was the regret and sadness on their faces to show otherwise.

The slow ride down the numerous amounts of floors felt like it was killing them more than the one in critical condition. He watched his chest slowly rise and fall to pass the time and ease the tension in his body. The anxious feeling he had was torturous, he could stand it. There was a hard lump in him throat he wasn't able to swallow. The choking feeling of not knowing what might happen. Not knowing how this would play out. He could only reassure himself that the other was still holding on. He was still breathing. The light in his chest showed that, no matter how much cloth covered it, the light continued to shine. He always meant to ask him what it was for or where it came from but he had a funny feeling it would be total awkward, so he avoided bringing it up.

Bruce kept applying steady pressure to the wound the entire ride down. Tony looking worse and worse every second, ghostly and hardly able to hold his eyes open. After several minutes they finally reached the base floor. They were met with the paramedics who seemed to be scrambling to the elevator door with the stretcher in hand. They were shocked to be met with a bloody Captain America and an even bloodier Tony Stark. They had known them as their saviors, but now one of them was in need of saving. They loaded up in the ambulance fast as humanly possible.

The vehicle was backed up to the door making it easily accessible. The two paramedics slide out the padded stretcher and Steve carefully laid Tony on his back while Bruce elevated the head side. One of the paramedics gathered an oxygen tank and mask, placing it over his face. Tony had been gasping for air ever since Steve pulled the shard from his body. He was in need of precious oxygen, with only one of his lungs working to full capacity and the other with a gaping hole.

His face seeming to tension less when met with the aid of an oxygen mask, that as well as the shot of morphine the other paramedic administered. The headache he'd been dealing with this whole time was finally melting away. He felt he could finally relax his body without fear of wincing at every slight movement.

They loaded up the stretcher in the back of the ambulance. Steve along with the other two paramedics climbed in and closed the doors. With a total of 3 people in the back of the small vehicle there was no room for Bruce. One of the paramedics suggesting it would have been okay if he wanted to ride up front with the driver. With no other choice other than huffing it behind them, he figured it wouldn't have been much of a big deal. He just didn't care for interaction with other people. He didn't have anything against them he's just never been much a fan of interacting with strangers in small places that's all. He took a deep shallow and opened the door, hopped into the passenger's seat. The driver had no idea just exacted who was sitting to his right. He paid little to no attention to him which relived Bruce.

The sirens went off along with flashing lights as they sped off. Tony's body had calmed so much after receiving the initial shot. One of the paramedics held the mask on his face while the unraveled the makeshift bandage and cut off one of Tony's favorite but now ruined shirts. Steve watched them work for a second then looked back over to Tony. It wasn't a surprise to see the other staring back at him. Hopefully his nerves had calmed quite a deal since being skewered. He managed a weak smile as his chestnut eyes looked back into Steve's bright blue ones. He smiled back even bigger than he anticipated, not regretting a single uplifted facial muscle.

Steve was glad and felt like he could relax a little knowing now that Tony was in good hands. His expression calmed and he exhaled a breath that he seemed to be holding all the way on top floor. Along with the morphine the paramedics also injected him with something that would slow the bleeding just enough to effectively wrap his wound. The two trained medics worked to disinfect the area around the gash; Steve didn't realize just how gruesome it looked until he got a good look at it. He could almost hurl at the sight of it which he couldn't understand. He watched people die in front of him, seen others have a limb blown off, but he couldn't watch as modern medicine worked its miracles. Steve couldn't help his face from scrunching at the thought of his comrades from way back when.

Tony broke eye contact with the blond and slowly drifted off, sinking back into the pillow, unable to keep his eyelids open any longer let alone maintain consciousness. They gently closed shut as every muscle relaxed and his body went limp. Steve's eyes widened to a panic, immediately looking over to one of the paramedics for any sort of reassurance. To his surprise there was no reaction, just one of them analyzing his wounds and the other gingerly pumping oxygen.

"What's happening?!" Steve exclaimed hysterically. The one holding a face mask explained that there was nothing wrong, that this was the desired effect. He stated that the sedative would relieve most of the stress and help him relax. It made everything a lot easier on him to be sedated and not awake, that way he was able to get some well deserved rest. Being he's been through quite a hefty amount of trauma and blood loss, it's a wonder why he hasn't keeled over by now, let alone you know. The worst was over but there was still a long period before he would be out of danger. He had sustained quite a severe injury, as well as lucky enough to even stay alive and in such high spirits.

That reassured him as returning to a light genuine smile. He combed some of the jet black hair out of his face using his fingertips. 'I don't think I've ever seen him look this happy before, so peaceful. It's a lot nicer than his constant diarrhea of the mouth. It's sad that he has to get sedated to be like this.' He thought to himself as he hummed lightly to himself. He could watch his chest steadily rise and fall all night if it meant he was alright, even if it was with an aided breath. Seeming utterly content and remaining hopeful, he knew Tony was strong that he was going to get through this like it was just one really bad hang over.

…

Bruce didn't say a single word the entire car ride. The driver even more quiet, which he didn't think was possible. The man must have been in his mid-forty's. He had a thick mustache and glasses as well as the stern expression he held. It there was a text book definition for led foot then this would have been the perfect example. This man wasted no time getting where he needed to be, that was good. Bruce watched the road mostly, having occasional spasms as if to be hitting the imaginary brake on the passenger's side. Especially when it came time to run the red lights, that was the scariest part mainly because the traffic in New York was already terrible.

"So have you had this job for a long time?" Bruce said timidly wonder whether or not small talk would make him feel better or not. It was bad enough to be worrying over something you didn't have much control over, but worse to be stuck with just your thoughts about it. It was starting to drive him crazier than he already was. At first the driver didn't even acknowledge his question, being preoccupied

"Oh sorry, don't get mad or anything I'm not trying to be mean by ignoring you. I just need to concentrate so I make sure I don't miss a turn or hit some idiot who's not paying attention. When you're speeding through traffic you got to have good judgment." The driver said with a slight smile as he turned the corner, his eyes never leaving the road. His voice was deeper than expected, he was pretty skinny and his voice didn't really match his physic. At least he gave Bruce the courtesy of being polite and actually answering him.

"It's no problem; I thank you for taking your job seriously. That's my friend back there so it means a lot." He smiled at his honesty, then paused for a second to let what the driver said fully register in his head. After a moment he finally realized just exactly what he said which made him hang his head low out of shame. "Wait, you said don't get mad… That means you know who I am don't you.." He sighed out of shame, he hated who he was and after so long of trying to hide just exactly what he was, all those year of secrecy melted away within a few days.

The driver glanced over for a split second after noticing the sudden change in atmosphere and the tone of the others voice as he spoke those words. "Hey honestly it'd be pretty sad if I didn't know who you were. After all if it wasn't for you, none of us would be here, right? You pummeled that lizard thing into the ground before it could reach the apartment complex live in. I'd have to say I owe you my life Mr. Hulk."

"Bruce is fine thanks," he replied with a chuckle. It was nice to be thanked for once rather than blamed. It made him feel good about himself. Saving lives and being able to have a conversation with one of the survivors. Made him feel a kind of warmth deep down, a way better feeling than the fiery burning sensation of anger, he liked praise. "If you want to thank anyone for that feat you'd have to talk with him," he said throwing his thumb up behind him. "He's a true Hero. He distracted that abomination long enough for me to; as you say pummel it into the ground."

He tensed up again; he hated not knowing what was going to happen next. Stressed him out beyond belief, that was way worse than his anger, he could at least control that now. He didn't even have a clue on how to even begin to tackle the uneasiness of anxiety. Whatever elevated feeling that filled the small space, disappeared once more and was replaced with a gloomy once again. The driver glanced back at him again but this time increasing his speed.

"We'll be there in less than two minutes. The best doctors in the nation practice there. He's in good hands." He wished he good say something definite but he didn't even know what Tony Starks condition was. The world would be a grim place without him that was for certain. Not just because he was a celebrity or one of the biggest philanthropist, but because he was a hero. Although no one could ever see that an egotistic billionaire could be that kind of person, he was one in a million. A big self conceded but a treasure in the twisted world.

"I've had this job for over 25 years believe it or not." Bruce was shocked that he ended up answering his stupid question from earlier. It made him happy to be heard, whether it was Steve, any other one of his team mate or just some random stranger. It was nice to be able to vent to someone who's willing to listen. "The name's Denis by the way, nice to meet you Bruce." He said sticking one of his hands out to the other, who in turn grasped it firmly. "We're finally here."


	5. Expiscor

Thor waited on the roof of the tower just in case there were anymore threats, that he would be ready. He figured it'd be their best chance in case there was another attack. It wasn't like he didn't trust Jarvis or the any of the other modernized technology, it's just he trusted his eyes and ears over machines. Nothing can beat his battle instincts nor his hammer and lighting. He could out due any sort of bomb or missile any mortal would dare throw at him. An Asgardians senses were far more advanced than that of Earthlings.

In hindsight he probably should have been the one to deal with the threat the first time rather than Stark. But it couldn't be helped; he figured since he was able to deal with one of greater magnitude only a few days earlier, that the next one would barley be of concern. It was a bold and stupid move he thought; after all he could tell the iron man was not in his right mind. Mortals didn't have as much tolerance in comparison to Asgardians.

Even so Thor still held some manner of respect for the man in armor, he thoroughly impressed the god. Not through his level of alcohol consumption but out get the idea. To impress Thor the god of thunder was not an easy feat, needless to say it wasn't something that happened on a regular basis. With Tony's quick thinking he even managed to take out the Chitauri mother ship. This incident however was deliberate attack, specifically to take out one of the Avengers. Tony being their prime target and them not thinking anything hazardous they took the bait.

Thor walked through the glass panels out onto the concrete patio. Tony as well as his two accompanists left a couple minutes ago, the rest of the group watching as the beaten man was carried into the elevator. When the cold steel doors shut they were sure they would be seeing the brunette again. All they could do now was to wait and keep an eye out. Thor only knew these people for a couple days but they were beginning to grow on him. It was nice to have a change of pace every now and again.

As he stepped out onto the patio and couldn't help but glance down at the ground. Little puddles of blood contrasted against the dark gray surface. He knelt down and touched one of the pools, it was cold and partially dried this was expected since blood didn't stay liquefied long after being exposed to the oxygen in the air.

He clenched his fist out of anger and twirled his prized Mjolnir taking off into the air and landing on the graveled roof. He walked over and leaded up against one of the large triangle shaped antennas considering that was the only other thing up there and watched the sky. The sunset from Earth sure was beautiful he thought, setting with hammer down next to him and bring with knees up to his chest. He was born and raised on what was considered one of the most beautiful places in the universe but there was something about the simplicity of Earth that lulled him.

He used to think of it as a barren place with little means and inhabited with weaklings. But ever since his first visit in which he originally protested to, he has grown to love it. He has also grown to love another as well as the thought of peace over the violence he'd always thought necessary to achieve his goals. Although from what Loki has shown him in the past few days it can't always be that simple.

When he returned, it was originally to retrieve his mettlesome brother and nothing else, but his mission took an unexpected turn. Loki managed things that even he didn't think possible or quite understand. None the less he had his eyes set on Earth for some reason. He wished he knew what was going on with him during the time of his absence. That would be one of his questions he'd ask him in his cell once all this business is cleared up. If anything good happened out of that mess, it'd be the fact that he'd actually managed to make quite a few friends.

It's funny, his whole life he'd been looked up to as the son of the king and one of the strongest. All of his friends were fighters like him, but it felt a little bland at times with them. The same old thing every day, an all out brawl followed by an over the top feast. He wasn't saying he was sick of his long times friends, it's just it's nice to meet new people, some of which who were so diverse and interesting. This was the place he'd met Jane after all, the most wonderful women he had laid eyes on. She was so beautiful and intelligent, not a very common combination in Asgard. In his eyes she was perfect, not a care in the world and so innocent. He would have never imagined himself falling for a woman with absolutely no battle experience who would never harm a fly.

He smiled at the thought of her. 'Before I leave again I promise I'll make sure to come see you Jane, I'm sure your worried when you shouldn't be.' He said silently to himself as he took a deep breath and sighed, remembering where he was at the moment. It was easy to get lost in thought when distracted by the natural beauty of the sky over the huge city.

He raised his hand to the dimed light and stared at his darkened finger tips, stained with his ally's blood. He had seen many of his friends slant in battle like a true hero defending their beliefs and even willing to die for them. This was not honorable; a sneak attack was one of the most shameful things a person could do in battle. But then to not even show their face is just cowardly. He scowled, just the thought of it made his blood boil. Having made a new friend, he was not about to lose him this way. Or if anything to let his sacrifice be in vain. "Be strong friend."

…

Clint shaped up real quick once everything suddenly became serious and sent one of them to the hospital in critical condition. All because he was way over his head and figured he could handle something so easily. In retrospect he probably could of but given the circumstances as well being oblivious to the extra surprise hidden within the initial attack. To make matters worse he was too out of it to avoid it or even notice what had happened until it was too late. This was so typical, inexperienced people dealing with serious situations so carelessly simply because of their ego.

The opposite of himself he took everything seriously, except when under the influence. To him it wasn't his problem per say and there were many able minded people in the room that wouldn't mind handling the nuisance. After all he wasn't much of a drinker and Natasha considered him much of a light weight. In truth he would rather stay sharp than dull his senses so he stayed away from booze. But this being a special occasion he made an exception. Thanks of all the years of training he'd been through, he was well able to bring himself down when it was needed. Almost like a self-sober up, he liked to think of it as like a type of ninja focus move he'd come up with but in reality that was redundant.

On the other side of the room Natasha stared at the glimmering metal shard coated in dark red blood; she studied it for a moment. That insignificant piece of mineral was able to drill straight threw the Iron Man armor as if it were tinfoil. She couldn't help but wonder just what exactly it was made of rather than who sent it. One thing before another right, they had to know what exactly they were going to be up against. She figured it couldn't hurt to run a few tests just to be sure of what exactly they were up against.

She walked past the huge puddle of blood where Tony was bleeding out just moments ago and traced the marks left when Steve slid the shard away out of exasperation. It left a large red skid mark to where it now lye presently. She had a very peculiar idea as to what it was made of, but wasn't entirely sure. She took a glance at the Captain America shield lying up against the side of the couch where Steve was sitting earlier.

"It's a strong possibility. But how and why?" She said to herself as she bent down to pick up the shard. It was still dripping heavily with blood as she held it in her hands, some running off onto her boots. She ignored the mess and trudged over to one of the many lab observation tables Tony had set up in the back of the room. They were everywhere; he was just that excessive kind of guy. Whenever a creative thought popped into his head he'd rush to the nearest station and do whatever he knows best. Anything he could do to impress Bruce Banner, make him jealous more like.

"Jarvis can you scan the materials for me and give me the specs." She flipped a few switches that were hidden underneath the table. The flat surface opened up to show a shallow divot like a sink that was lined with a reflective material. She set the item carefully in the vat and a gridded blue light shined over the top of it, reflecting off the metal and glistening with the reminisce of blood.

"Absolutely Ms. Romanoff, the specimen should take about 10 minutes to fully examine." She nodded stepping away from the table as the machine was making little beeping noises and going back and forth with the little blue grid. She stared down at her hands and clenched them tight and releasing her grip to get a good feel for the substance covering her usually supple hands. They were wet and sticky being coated in thick, slowly clotting blood. She walked over to the sink and held her hand up in the light; it shined in the light and felt like it was an ironic kind of sick joke. The substance that retained life could look so beautiful under the right conditions.

She scowled, using her clean hand to turn the faucet on so she could scrub them. She was used to seeing blood after all she was trained to be an assassin, but she could never stand the sight of her friends blood stain her hands. It was sickening; the mere thought of it left a fowl taste in her mouth. She watched the dark red suds slide down the drain as she heard light footstep coming up from behind. Clint walked towards her with a usual serious look plastered on his face though a little softened. He looked at her then down to the sink where her eyes never left. She obliviously knew who was next to her even without the need to look up.

After working with someone for so long you begin to learn more about them than they probably know about themselves. You start to pick up their habits; way of doing things, the way they talk or act how they are under pressure or in a different environment, even the way they smell is imprinted in your own mind. They were best friends; they looked out for each other no matter what happened. It'd be pretty sad if they didn't fully know each other after years of working together. Especially given their skill set.

Clint placed a heavy hand on her shoulder but her gaze never faltered; not until he flipped on the lights making the inside instantly brighter. The sudden change stung their eyes slightly but Natasha didn't mind it, she just continued to lather her palms and wrists with soap. Once all the color had seemed to run down the drain she dried them with a clean white dish towel. She looked up at Clint and flashed a smile before setting the towel down and letting out a breath she seemed to of held the entire time.

She went to turn on her heel to check on the data but was stopped by an unexpected embrace from her long time friend. This surprised her for a moment, but it really shouldn't have. Clint hated seeing her troubled it didn't suit her, she was too strong to be put down by something like this. They were never the worrying type; never really had to, with them it was do your job to the best of your ability and live to see another day. Not to worry but be aware of any possible outcomes. He hugged her tighter, I guess this time they couldn't help but worry. They'd seen similar situations involving other agents they knew, with more devastating results. "He gonna be fine Nat, they man is just as stubborn as Furry. It'll take a lot more than something like this to finish him. I bet even right now he's pushing everyone around and giving them a hard time."

She smiled shyly; in the end the only thing they could do at this point was remain optimistic. Worrying is like praying for something you don't want to happen. It was getting dark outside and they have yet to hear any word from the others. Thor remained on the roof as a look out and all was quiet, considering how late it's gotten already it doesn't seem like there would be any more surprises tonight. He'd probably be coming inside in a little bit pretty soon. After a little bit the computer maybe a loud electronic buzz to notify that the analysis was complete.

"My forensics shows me that it made of a material called Vibranium. I assume you've deducted this conclusion even before I have Ms. Romanoff." Jarvis informed the woman patiently waiting for forensics. He also pulled up on the big screen the detailed information about the mass and composition of the item. Even leaving some specs on Tony's blood type which coated it. Natasha sat down at the counter with Clint to her side as they both of them looked up at the giant monitor.

"I had a feeling but I had to be sure. What is the rarest substance on the planet doing hidden in a missile?" She said out loud placing a hand under her chin out of confusion, although she knew the answer to that question as well. Just not wanting to come to that conclusion just yet, one thing she could never be was clueless. Clint was the same way most of the time.

"I believe I can answer that. But isn't it pretty obvious Nat? I mean look." Clint pointed at the scraps of Tony's suit which remained dismantled and scattered into pieces on the floor, drenched in blood. He walked over and picked up half of the split apart breast plate. The sharp of Vibranium left a huge gaping hole through the middle of it. If the suit had been just a little thinner the spike could have easily tunneled straight threw to the other side.

"Tony's suit is made of the strongest combination of metallic substances on Earth other than Vibranium. And that one shard cut threw like it was nothing but a piece of card stock. They knew that he would be the one to take care of the missile; he's done so many countless other times. They even calculated the force needed to drive a stake threw him. He was a threat and it would be in their best intentions to get rid of him." Clint said as he crossed his arms together and plopped on the couch. It pained him to admit it but they were in trouble without Tony, after all without him there would have been no way they would have lasted as long as they did against those aliens. At that moment Thor walked in threw the outer doors, drawing no attention to him from the others who were obliviously troubled.

"I figured that much already. He's one of our best lines of defense. Somebody would love to remove the thorn in their side if they were to ever advance with whatever dastardly deed they have in store. So the big question right now is who wants to lower our defenses and weaken us? What is their plan?" Natasha said running her fingers threw her red hair. "Why can't people just give us a brake sometimes? Is saving the planet not enough for these people?" She was beyond frustrated by this point.

Thor looked at the two utterly confused until he looked up what was displayed up on the big television screen."What's this all about?" He blurted out in confusion, not used to such technology conveying such intricate pictures as well as the numbers that go with it. He looked at the other two in the room, the spider women burying her face in her folded arms and the bowman starring at the ceiling with his arms behind his head. Thor arched an eye brow and walked over to the couch, setting his hammer down on the table and sitting across from the other man. He cupped his hands in his lap, waiting for some kind of answer that would be more satisfying than the one he would have to come up with on his own.

Clint lifted his head up to exchanged glances at the Asgardian before letting out another sigh. He lifted his arm up and pointed at the screen and replayed to the others long awaited question. "That big trouble is headed our way if we don't come up with some answers pretty quickly."


	6. Incidi

It'd been a long stressing day for all of them, which was ironic since today was initially meant to be a day of relaxation, giving them a chance to unwind a little. Everything was normal without any worries, everyone was just starting to get to know one another and yet someone had to go and crash the party.

They were furious over what happened but who wouldn't be? Their friend was in critical condition and they had no idea what was going to happen next to make it worse they still hadn't found the culprit. Whatever was to happen from here on out would be imprinted on their memories for a long time. Whether it be a huge relief or an even big tragedy, they could only pray and wait. But hopefully the one lying in the hospital bed wouldn't remember much of the incident. That would be considered one of the uplifting aspects about being intoxicated at the time.

That and the fact that Tony's body was processing slower than usual helped to dull the feeling of pain, along with the adrenaline flowing through him. He suffered much less at the time, which was a good thing. Now all that was left was the tedious recovery process. Once they'd removed the fragment he was rushed to the hospital for immediate surgery. It could best be described as sewing up a ripped open teddy bear, except with not much stuffing to work with. With the continuous blood flowing out of an almost lifeless body, they had to work fast and extremely critically.

Tony had access to the best doctors in Manhattan. Some of which were the most qualified in the US. Ever since his incident in Afghanistan he didn't like to take any chances, even if he hated going to the doctor it was just one of those things. He couldn't just ignore the shrapnel in his chest forever, one day maybe soon he'd have to get it removed, as much as he didn't want to. The arc reactor after all was just a temporary solution and he knew one time or another something would have to be done about it.

The medics rushed Tony in as soon as possible, his two friends went to wait and the rest of the hospital crew was on standby for this very moment. He was in really bad shape at this point, still unconscious but barely breathing even with oxygen support. The pair of medics busted threw the doors with the gurney and never stopped; some nurses who had been patiently waiting rushed over and helped redirect them toward the Emergency Room. Steve and Bruce were hardly able to get into the building with all of the commotion going on between the staff. Most of them were shouting commands that they only half understood. A lady took them a side and brought them to the waiting room, they just watched as their friend was being wheeled away from them.

…

Steve couldn't help but pace back and forth in the lobby. His mind was going a mile a minute with no hope of slowing until he knew the situation. He'd never been much of a patent man, even bake in the old days before he joined the army or became a super solder he had always been antsy. Everyone thought he had ADD, even his mother before she passed away. She'd never been able to keep a leash on him. Not like it was a bad thing, Steve had always been a good boy. He would help out and clean; make dinner if his mother had been working all day and was tired. He was a kind boy but he hardly got tired and when he did he still kept on going.

He loved to help out it was how he was; he was born with a weak body but a kind heart. It was unfortunate but that never stopped him. He loved his family and stood up for who ever needed it, although there wasn't much he could do that didn't stop him from trying. Bucky was always there too, just as kind hearted. The two of them were like brother even if they were completely different yet they loved each other. When his mother died he was all he had, they looked out for each other. Well more like Bucky watched out for him, no matter how kind Steve was he would still be the one getting into fights.

He missed Bucky so much, almost like it left a void in his heart. He would give his left arm to see him again but he knew there was no way. He'd been lost before it was even his time. A lot of young men lost did as well and for awhile so was he. Steve got lucky, he was found. They never told him how but the next thing he knew he woke up in a make believe hospital room. It was shocking to say the least having the last thing you remember being that you were freezing to death. Then to wake up in the future surrounded by all sorts of things you couldn't even begin to understand. Everything was new but he loved to learn.

He didn't miss his time line too much; there was way more poverty and diseases with no way of treatment. He didn't miss the war; after all he half expected to die in it. Along with everyone else he fought alongside with, even with the serum he figured it was inevitable. All he could do was except that fact, but after all the hell he'd managed to come out of it. The only thing he missed was his friends, Bucky and Howard, and Peggy. He wished he could have had their dance just before his mission. He really liked Peggy and his entire life he could never even talk to a girl, she was different; it's like she could see him for who he was and not judge him by his appearance. She was a caring woman just like his mother. He wished he had longer but his timing was off, it was always off.

He met new people, two special agents, a scientist with an special ability who was in fact a really nice guy, and some guy that fell out of the sky that actually turned out to be a pretty cool guy also. There was also the son of his old friend who happened to be the same age as his father back when he knew him. There was also entire organization that he knew back in the day as merely a starter project, climb its way to the top. They'd just barely got to know each other, post introductions were only an understatement, but none the less they learned how to work together and it paid off. They'd won, it was near impossible but they had done it, together.

He was beginning to coupe; after all it'd been such a long time since he'd worked with others. Especially one's as extraordinary as these ones. In his mind it hadn't been long at all, almost like waking up the next day, when in reality it had been several decades. It was an experience to say the least; he'd never been in a situation like that ever before. But he was glad he was able to work with people with hearts as big as his, even if some of them had their faults but they all meant well. He thought of Bucky a lot, it was understandable to miss your best friend. To watch your friend fall from your reach in unforgiving tundra was one of the hardest things he's experienced.

"Not again," Steve said silently to himself. "I can't lose anyone else." He continued to pace back and forth; the lobby couldn't have been anymore baron, just the two of them and the receptionist until they were moved to a more private waiting room that was meant for families. It was just him and Bruce waited for any word regarding Tony's condition other than the ones waiting at the tower, they were alone. Bruce remained quiet, only an occasional sigh escaped threw his fingers. He sat hunched over in his chair, his face nuzzled in his hands, deep in thought. He never really vented his feelings to anyone instead he'd rather contemplate quietly to himself.

After a while Steve figured it was time to clean himself off a little bit after all he was still covered in blood. He looked himself in the mirror; it'd been a long time since he'd seen himself look so unsure. He had looked lost, his eyes wondered from the broken expression on his face to his dark and bloodied buttoned up shirt as well as up his forearms. He turned the faucet on and pumped some soap into his hand and scrubbed them. The blood had plenty of time to dry making it harder to wash away. It was even up underneath his finger nails.

He wiped his hands with a couple paper towels and started undoing his shirt and took it off, figuring it would make him feel a little better not wearing his team mate. Lucky for him he had on an undershirt, that way he wouldn't be bare chested in a hospital. He balled up his once blue shirt and looked back at himself in the mirror and sighed. "Come on Stark.. Don't you die on us.."

…

The surgery would be time consuming to say the least. Since the shard hit him with such force, making it able to pierce his armor as well as bend it inward. It tore right threw his left side; it missed his stomach and angled its way up into his chest cavity. The area around the wound was slowly bruising and turning into a dark sickly purple. Sadly the aid of his arc reactor in his chest the magnetism assisted in drawing the metal fragment further and further into his lung and closer to his heart at the same time.

As well as make it harder to remove, it was a good thing that Steve used his better judgment and quickly thought to remove the shard rather than leaving it in. With his strength it wasn't much of a problem. If he hadn't Tony probably would have an entire lung full of blood to drown in. But he manages to just skate by with one massive hole rather than the shredded bottom half. They hooked him up to the heart monitor which gave out several quiet beeps as the staff hurriedly prepped for surgery.

"Anesthesia" The surgeon shouted over his team as he pulled a pair of latex gloves over his hands. Numerous people were zipping around the room, some of them were prepping Tony for the surgery itself and others were setting up their stations. One of the nurses hustled over with a breathing mask that would replace the little squeeze one they'd used when bringing him in. Another young nurse rushed over to cleaned his arm and set up an IV. A meticulous syringe held delicately between her lips as she finished placing the needle in his vain. She pulled out a piece of tape to hold it in place and removed the syringe from her mouth and injected it into the porous tubing.

They cut away the temporary bandage that had been completely soaked threw by now. Once it was removed little streams worked their way down his side, meeting the surface of the operating table. One of the nurses wipe the area around with a cloth dampened with disinfectant. The main surgeon came over to assess the damage so far, his other colleagues swarming around behind him placing all sorts of instruments around his station. He picked out a blunt hook and stuck it in the gash to get a better look inside; he tenderly pulled some of the torn flesh to the side and used a little flash light to get a better idea of the condition of his internal organs that were exposed.

He picked up one of the scalpels from the metal plate to his side and cut the gash wider and set retractors in place to hold the wound open. His assistant held a little siphoning tube and used it to suck up the blood that was still gushing from his lung. All of a sudden the heart rate monitor began to wail with erratic beeps. This alerted the lot to no prevail. The more experienced ones sprung into action and quickly thought of the best course of action. "He's going into cardiac arrest!" Tony's labored breath became more and more sporadic, though he was still unconscious he was mildly tossing under the stress. Two of the nurses held him down at the shoulders to prevent him from hurting himself anymore.

The assistant sprinted back with another needle in hand and plunged it into his chest, slightly to the side of Tony's arc reactor. Within a couple second his breathing slowed once again bringing only minor relief for this would only cause another problem. If his heart rate were to either race or slow just a little bit more there wouldn't be much more they could do about it that they already hadn't done. They needed to work fast.

"We're going to need a bag of A positive to replace what he has lost. Come on people hustle don't forget why we're all here, we have to work our best to save this man. It's the least we can do after what he did for all of us." Some of the staff hung their heads a little lower, unsure whether or not they could save him or not, but being reminded of their duty they somehow found a burst of inspiration and purpose. Each of them carried out their tasked to the fullest of their capabilities.

The surgeon used biodegradable stitches and with carful precision started threading them threw the ripped sides of his lung, pulling them back together best he could. This would be the longest part but once all the necessary structures were reconnected they could finally close him up. Once the inner parts of his lung were reattached the blood flow slowed down considerably. He then enclosed some of the loose muscle tissue back together and with much thicker stitches he sewed his skin back best he could. IT didn't look horribly bad, the cross stitched line on his abdomen was straight and bound tight. The bruising around had gotten extremely worst once the procedure was near finished. Dark purple was all that was there, it surrounded the fresh scar.

They finished with seconds to spare any longer and who know what would have happened. They were extremely lucky in getting there when they did. With this kind of injury would have had a normal person dead within 10 minutes without medical attention. They'd downed in their own blood before anyone could reach them, but something was keeping Tony alive. His lung was fixed for the time being but unfortunately some of his ribs had broken because of the impact and others were at least cracked. There was also a minor fracture in his spine that itself would take quite a while to heal. Overall the operation took a few good hours to complete, all while his friends waited patiently for any word about his condition. Not really talking much either.

Tony was in and out of surgery quite fast even though it was a 5 and a half hour operation. For the people working on him it seemed as those they didn't have enough time. But for the two waiting outside as well as the one waiting at the tower, time moved even slower than it should have. They were just glad that they'd gotten him help in time. He could have bled out all over his comrades and the floor of his facility or drowned in a lung full of blood in the arms of his friend while the others watched. Nothing they could possibly do about it. It'd be best to forget all of that happening and look toward the future.

"We're done here for now, can you guy's clean up while I got inform his friends of the situation. We need to run some tests real quick before we transport him to a room." The doctor said removing his blue latex gloves that were covered entirely in blood. Some of the nurses check his blood pressure real quick and cleaned him up. They bandaged him thickly in gaze to prevent the stitches from being loosened if he rustled around or was being transported. Once they finished lifted him up carefully and placed him on a gurney to be moved.

They wheeled him out and down another hallway. The main surgeon cleaned himself up and removed his soiled scrubs. He didn't want to alert them by his appearance, like buttered him or something. He washed his hands and left down another hallway that would lead to area where the waiting room was. He knocked on the door and was immediately greeted with the worried Captain. "Hello sir my name is Dr. Shelton, may I come in."

Steve looked near shattered they'd waited so long that they didn't what had happened. He let out a timid "yes" and moved to the side allowing the man to walk in. He was nervous and in between whether or not he wanted to know what happened or not, but he had to know the suspense was killing him. "What's the news doctor?" Bruce said from behind Steve, the time was beginning to take a toll on him but he was very much aware. Especially since Steve had paced back and forth for a whole 5 hours.

"Everything went alright, we were able to patch him up and keep his vitals stable. Right now some of my colleagues are running a few tests but I assure you he's in good hands. You should be able to see him shortly but it will only be for a few moments. He desperately needs rest and he probably won't be awake by then." A huge weight was lifted from their shoulders. Steve could felt he could finally relax; his knees hit the ground after being on his feet for hours. It wasn't like he was tired or anything like that, it's just he want to let relief fully wash over him. "Thank you." He said finally as he looked the man in the eye and smiled.

"It's the least I can do for guys, I don't know what happened but I'm glad I could do everything in my power to save Mr. Stark. You boys are Heroes." Shelton said as he crammed his hands in his pockets. Bruce stood from his seat and silently thanked the man as well.

…

They moved Tony to a private room after they ran whatever tests they wanted. They deducted that in addition to the lung he had 3 broken ribs, another 4 cracked on both sides and a few cracked vertebra. It was like he got punched by the Hulk himself and hit the wall behind him. He laid in what seemed to be a very comfortable bed with the covers pulled up to his chest his arms on the outside of it. The room was fairly decent sized and recently refurbished, the décor was nice and he had a window. By this time the sun had completely gone down and the moon was at its highest.

Tony's Arc Reactor shone brightly against the ceiling of dimly lit room. Proof that Tony Stark still had a heart; even after his ordeal it still wasn't done ticking. The machines to his side beeped lightly. He had been out of surgery for an hour or so and the doctors finally decided it would be ok to let his friends in to see him. They'd been waiting for so long to see how he was holding up.

Steve and Bruce entered the dark room. After being in such a horrible state he finally looked peaceful even if he still wasn't flushed with his usual tan color. From his stomach to his chest was bound in thick bandages tinged slightly since first being set. His left arm attached to a blood bag as well as an IV. He was unconscious and hooked up to all sorts of different machines, the duo hated to see him this way. It was pitiful and weak, the complete opposite of what Tony stood for.

They found two seats in the room and pulled them up next to the bed and watched him slowly breathe in and out with the oxygen mask on his face. Steve reached over and felt his forehead and frowned once he noticed how cold it still was. As far as they knew he was holding on. He had endured everything all the way up to the end of his procedure. One thing was true in the long run; he hadn't given up and was determined to continue the fight. Even if it wasn't a physical battle, his body might prove to be his strongest feat yet. The only thing they could do now was be patient and let him get some rest.


	7. Solliciti

Steve lightly tapped the rail of the bed to the beat of the heart monitor. It was steady and rhythmic the way it should be; words could not describe the relief modern day machines brought him. They kept his friend breathing and gave him more blood to replace what he'd lost. Things have advanced so much since his time. He smiled as he listened to Tony's light breathing the sound from oxygen tank drowning out his wheezing. Steve could still hear it however, thanks to his heightened senses.

Tony looked so peaceful, his face was relaxed and his hair was in a tangled mess. It was getting really late. Bruce had been falling asleep over the past 2 hours; his head would occasionally nod off until he finally gave in. He sat behind the captain in an overly comfortable chair and joined the other in rest. It was almost midnight and after all the commotion I wouldn't blame him for being tired. They would be leaving soon anyways the other are probably worried sick by now.

Steve stood up for a moment and yawned as he walked towards the window, careful not to disturb either one of his friends. The moon was so beautiful it shined so brightly threw the glass panels and against the tile. New York has come so far since he last saw it; the buildings doubled in size and seemed to cover as much square foot as possible. Everything was so compacted and full of life, such an odd pair. The moon was as bright as the sun tonight, just like the city that never sleeps.

He pulled his gaze away from the city and looked over to Bruce who had his chin resting on one of his palms with his mouth hanging open and a stream of drool running down his arm which made Steve giggle. He looked comfortable as far as he knew; honestly he could never sleep like that. He sighed and looked up at the digital clock in the corner of the room; it was almost one in the morning. He rubbed his eyes and heard something from behind him. It was light grunting that sounded strangely familiar. He paused for a moment before he realized who was behind him. He looked back to see Tony wincing and slightly moving his head to the side in discomfort.

"He's awake.." Steve gasped as he rushed to the man's side. Barely able to contain his concern, he had waited hours for any change on his condition but not expecting much, especially not for him to be awake already. Hell he was just glad that he didn't slip into a coma or something. So that was another relief. He pulled his chair closer to Tony's bed and sat down and took his hand. He grunted once more unintentionally scrunched his eyelids in blatant discomfort before he lightly fluttered them open. He looked so weak as if one touch from Steve would make him cave in.

"Huh.. Where.. am I?" Tony slowly came back to consciousness; his voice raspy and muffled underneath the oxygen mask strapped to his face, a slight wheeze with each inhale he took. Curtsy of his broken ribs, it was a miracle that he managed to fly all the way back to the tower before realizing what happened. His chest was wrapped tightly with tinged white bandages which made it nearly impossible for him to move. That was the desired effect, Stark being as hardheaded as they come. Although they could bet he'd be out for a pretty long while.

…

"At the hospital, though you probably don't remember much. I mean you were pretty messed up when everything went down." Steve replied answering his clearly oblivious question. Tony's mind was groggy and his head was throbbing but he wasn't totally clueless, he remembered mostly everything. Well until he passed out that was when everything faded to black. He rolled his head and looked over to the blond to his side.

The look on his face was soft and sincere, his eyes however displayed worry. As well as the light bags that developed underneath them. He had never seen him like this. In a way he looked as bad as he did. The way you carry yourself can tell a lot about your experience. He looked worn, so sincere and worried. Other people would take that as a weakness, showing emotion was always considered being soft. At least that's the way his father always looked at it. He would have been disappointed in the super soldier.

Tony never cared much for his father. He loved him he really did but he was always too busy to pay attention to him when he was growing up. He couldn't really blame him though; I mean he did have one of the biggest companies in the United States to run after all. When he was around Howard the thing he talked about was either ways to improve the business or about his past working with the famed Captain America. For the longest time Tony idolized his, how couldn't he? He was a hero that ended the world war.

But after awhile he began to envy the super soldier, he was always the center of his dad's attention, even though he was gone forever at that point in time. He still spent all his time searching for anyway to locate him. He didn't understand why he did that, there was more to life then living in the past. Jarvis was more of a father figure to him growing up than is actual dad. He just wished his real father cared more than just for his grades in school and spent some quality time with him. Anything was better than him being locked up for hours at a time working on something and hung over the next morning.

He tried so many times to impress his father but it didn't make much of a difference. He could have created the cure for cancer, but unless it had a way of finding his Capitan America hidden in ice it was not interesting. He gave up after awhile and learned it was better just to do things for yourself rather than someone who didn't appreciate you. All he gained from his father was the company and his inherited genus. Unfortunately some of his old habits as well, that's what put him in this situation, his uncontrollable ego and need to drown his troubles in alcohol. The thought of all that was starting to make him depressed. He figured it was about time to answer the man hovering over him.

"You underestimate.. How well I can hold my alcohol.." He smirked. He always had a habit of making a joke in bad situations. It made everything feel less tense in a way kind of like a defense mechanism. He attempted to sit up more but it sent a shooting pain that spread through his side and up through his chest. Forcing him to fling his head back and stay still until it would suffice, his eyes squeezed shut. His side throbbed vigorously as he clutched it with the arm that was not attached to an IV and other machines. His head pounded just as bad, an after effect of the drugs mixing with the alcohol already in his system.

"Whoa Tony don't try to move. You need to rest." Steve quickly sprung to his feet and continued to project that deep seeded worry in his tone and actions. He gently placed his hands on the other's shoulders to ease him and keep him from wriggling. As well as keep him calm and collected. The last thing he wanted was for him to be spazzing out after he made it through the trauma he has. After a few moments his breathing calmed and slowed becoming more regulated.

The commotion woke Bruce up whom in turned nearly flipped out of his chair. He scrambled to collect himself before he realized what was going on. He rushed over to where he saw Steve leaning over the bed and witnessed Tony struggling in agonizing. His hand gripped the bed in attempts at drawing the feeling away but to no prevail. "I don't know what all is going on but I'm going to call for doctor so he can give you something to knock out the pain." Bruce quickly mentioned already halfway out the door.

Once Tony settled a bit Steve released his careful grip on his shoulders and allowed him to settle back into his bed. He exhaled exhausted and sat back in his chair as he watched his friend take in shallow breaths. Before it dawned on him, why was Steve so troubled over him? It didn't make any sense, he hardly knew him. I mean he knew his father sure but he didn't know much about the imperfect son of Howard. So far all Tony has managed to do was help save the city with the lot of them and show his ass and only one of those things was acceptable.

It was funny he spent half his life idolizing the man to his right and the other half resenting him. Tony was a logical thinker and no matter how he looked at the question he still couldn't figure it out. He didn't even know him until about a week ago and it just didn't add up. "Why do you care so much anyway?" Tony chuckled painfully but he couldn't help it. He had to know. That last remark caught Steve off guard but attention in an instant, drawing it away from Banner suddenly leaving the room. He instantly went from being worried to angry, "how could I not care?!" He retorted a little harsher then he was meaning to. But to him it was a stupid question to ask.

"Honestly Tony that's one of the stupidest thing I've heard you say. Aren't you supposed to be some sort of genius, what kind of crap is that to ask?! We all care for you and what happens to you even if you don't seem to care yourself." Steve huffed in frustration. He'd waited hours to see him and then longer for him to be comprehensible and all he wants to know is why he did what he did. Tony merely blinked at his supposedly empty words.

"Although we haven't known each other very long you're still my friend. We protect our own and I wasn't just about to let you bleed out and die on your own floor. I know you're strong and well able to handle yourself; you've done it way before knowing any of us. But we're a team and we do care for you. We're friends now Tony, whether you like it not I'm going to have your back."

Steve continued before feeling the need to look away from the injured man and stare at the floor, noticing the all too familiar white tile. He set his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his palms. At a loss until a few more timid words escaped his lips whether or not they would fall on deaf ears. "I've lost a lot of friends Tony.. I don't what to lose you too.."

His last comment struck something in Tony and caused him to soften his expression. In a way he sensed how much that comment hurt the supposedly impervious super soldier. The only two people in his life that he showed real emotion towards. That truly cared for him and not afraid to show it was his best friend Pepper and Jarvis who was nothing more than a computer now. I suppose Rhodey could be thrown in that equation as well but their friendship was a little different than the one he had with Pepper. To Tony she was always there since the beginning, she was like the sister he never had who always nagged him about doing something stupid and occasionally scolding him for embarrassing her.

That's why he always had the deep seeded urge to be the center of attention since he never received it growing up. This time however he wasn't in the mood for attention even though everyone was giving it. It had been a long time since someone showed real concern for him that wasn't political. It was an odd feeling but he could tell the Steve really meant what he said. You could tell by the way he carried himself and the tone in his voice that there was something he'd lived through that still haunted him. Perhaps Tony was too quick to judge him; he truly was one in a million. An honest, caring, and misunderstood soldier that wasn't the show boat he'd grew up believing him to be.

The next thing he knew Tony was forcing himself to sit up, ignoring how excruciatingly painful it was and embraced Steve. It startled him for a second; not fully realizing what was going on until a pair of arms linked around his neck and pulled him in closer. His eyes widened, at first he didn't know what to think but he quickly caught on. "Tony, what are you doing? You need to lie back down." He said as he lifted his head up to look at the other who was by this point resting on his shoulder. He could hear his labored shallow breaths. It concerned him but Tony was too stubborn, just like his father.

It wasn't like he could push him away, not like he wanted to in the first place, but he was in no shape to be in this position. He felt the only thing he could really do in this situation was wrap his arms back around him and support him the best he could. He felt so fragile underneath his strong arms. Almost like if he squeezed be little too hard he'd shatter underneath him. There was no way of knowing what was going on in that eccentric mind of his, why he would push himself this far when he couldn't even sit up a moment ago. Tony was a mystery to him why he does the things he does didn't add up but it seemed to work for him in a way. But this was out of character, well as far as he could see. From the tabloids and the file he read up on the younger Stark he wasn't much of the gushy type.

"Thank you Steve.." The blond blushed slightly under the others arms not expecting those words to ever leave Tony's lips. He smiled under his warmth although he was pretty sure it was a growing fever. He ran a steady hand down his side, feeling the roughness of the bandages under his fingertips. He frowned at the thickness of the cloth, motioning over the wound light caressing it and felt something wet. 'I hope his wounds didn't reopen because of his stubbornness.' He thought to himself. "How are you feeling Tony?" The other asked quietly knowing he had his full weight on him by this point.

"Feels like Bruce got angry and wailed on me.. Head hurts.." He said with what little breath he had, straining every few syllables. "But it's ok.." With those last words he slowly started drifting, his body was steadily getting heavier and he was slipping. Steve felt the shift in weight on his shoulder and knew Tony needed to lie back down and rest. He should have stayed there to begin with but it couldn't be helped. He wasn't ok but he was too innocent to know any better. Surly he hadn't gone through anything quite as serious as this. Even if you counted his unfortunate stay in Afghanistan, this was not to be taken lightly.

"You need to relax now Tony and try to get some rest." The man in bed was hardly able to keep his eyes open, his vision fading once again. Steve caught Tony and gently laid him back in his bed, his head heavily sinking into the soft pillows. His breath was slow and shallow and his bandages were a tinged a little redder than he'd originally anticipated. This made Steve a little nervous as he watched the other drift off. "Steve I can't," He barley let out as a whisper before there was a knock at the door.

The doctor along with Bruce entered the room in a rush. "I can't believe he's already regained consciousness. He didn't strain himself did he?" Dr. Helshier said pulling a little flashlight from his shirt pocket and checking whether the pupils were dilated or not. Steve shied away from the question a little bit by looking away making Helshier arch an eyebrow, "Well did he?"

Steve scratched the back of his neck nervously and let out an unsure answer when he knew it was the truth. "He might have forced himself to sit up when he shouldn't have." The doctor looked annoyed at the fact that his patient as well as his friend wasn't taking this a seriously as possible. "You do realize how lucky he is?" He said looking down at Tony who was fading farther, looking more out of it each second.

Dr. Helshier gave him a quick look over and could tell he was in a great deal of pain, completely riddled in sweat and pale as he was. He was surprised he hadn't passed back out yet. But Tony was as stubborn as they come. Helshier knew that from his yearly checkups which he despised so much. Plus everyone knew what kind of man he was, with the big ego and the type whose face the camera loved and who didn't mind giving an audience just exactly what they wanted. He uncapped a syringe of heavy sedatives and injected it into the IV.

Within minutes Tony found it harder and harder to keep his eyelids open until it was utterly impossible and he drifted off. It was after he passed out that the doctor noticed the heavily stained bandages and parts of the sheets. His eyes widened at the sight and he quickly over turned the covers to get a better look, hoping that none of the stitches had come loose and opened up to wound again.

Steve watched as he cut the cloth away from the man's body. Blood oozed from between the bindings but overall the stitches remained intact which was good news for them. He grabbed a couple gaze pads and cleaned him up and with Steve's help redressed his wound. "He has a really serious injury and with a cracked spine as well as ribs we can't be too careful."

He said honestly as he looked the tired man in the eyes. Steve and Bruce only exchanged worried glances as the doctor pulled a couple of sterilized bandages and gaze from the little supply dresser to the side which didn't seem to belong in the nicely furbished room. He wiped away the already drying blood from around the stitches. Steve offered to assist him while he patched his friend up. He was finally able to get a good view of the wound without blood soaked clothing in the way and a rush of adrenaline keeping his mind on the task that was originally at hand.

The way his skin looked made him near sick to his stomach, if it wasn't for his time in the service he probably would have lost his lunch. How Tony was able to hold out the way he did or even be able to force himself to sit up was a mystery to him. It was a long cut at least 20 stitches and a few staples held it together, but that wasn't what alarmed the hardened soldier. It was his skin; the discoloration was something he hadn't seen before. It was made him ache just to look at it. He turned away for a moment while the good doctor rewrapped his side.

Dr. Helshier thought it best for Tony's guests to leave and get some rest themselves. After all they have been here for a painstaking amount of time and what their friend really needed right now was a good amount of stress-free rest. They decided it was best to take his advice there wasn't much they could do at this point other than wait plus they did need to let the others know the good news.

The doctor pulled the covers Tony and left the room for the others to say their goodbyes. Steve sat back down in his chair resting his cheek against his fist and Bruce decided to stay standing. The two of them remained silent as they watched Tony sleep. He looked so peaceful even with the oxygen mask was strapped to his face. A faint wheezing could be heard with every inhale he took. Bruce placed a hand on his shoulder and sighed, "I think it's about time we headed back to the tower; I'm sure the others are worried sick."

Steve stood from his seat without a single word. A tightened expression plastered on his face. He put his chair back where he found it and the pair walked out of the room, Bruce closing the door behind them. They walked down the halfway in silence. At two in the morning the hospital wasn't super busy and they were the only ones walking around at least on that side of the building. Only the sound of their footsteps echoing in the hallway gave to the silence. After rounding the corner Bruce decided it was time to break the silence. "What do you think he meant?"

Steve narrowed an eyebrow and shot a confused glance at his companion. "What are you talking about?" He said as he shoved his hands in his pockets and continued to walk, urging the other man to explain himself. "I'm talking about what Tony said before passing back out. He said I can't. Like what is that supposed to mean?"

"I thought the same thing when I heard it but the thing he needed was rest or else he wouldn't recover. I hope it's nothing I really do. I don't want him to suffer anymore then he already has." Steve answered solemnly as they approached the front doors, giving a slight wave at the receptionist as they exited the hospital. "I'll tell you one thing I do know. I hate this, all of it and I want whoever did this to Tony to pay for it. They haven't the slight idea who they're screwing with." Steve said quietly and colder than Bruce had anticipated this was something that was way out character for the so called liberator. He could tell he was serious. After all they were the Avengers.


	8. Accuso

The two exited the hospital looking as though they'd witnessed an execution and resurrection all in the same day. There was a mix of emotion, ranging from anger and relief to a grim sense. Steve seemed to have a permanent scowl fixated on his face ever since they'd left Tony in his room. It was unlike his usual physique, he had always kept up the sense of professionalism and above all leadership. Someone has crossed a line that should never to be trampled and there was a storm coming.

Bruce looks more ghostly compared to his companion, somewhat lost like he didn't know what was going to happen next which in all honesty they didn't. Steve more as if he was on a mission, that if something extremely important was at stake. Bruce however seemed stuck in a trance at least for the moment. I guess you could say even after the hours of waiting things were still processing in his mind.

"Steve I feel really horrible. Like all of this is my fault. If I just tried to stop him from flying up there then none of this would of happened. He wasn't fit to be out there like he was; at least if he would have been sober then maybe he would have been able to dodge it in time."

Steve looked at the scientist confusion plaguing his facial features. "Bruce.. There's no sensing in beating yourself up over this, none of this is your fault or anybody else's for that matter. Only that bastard who sent the missile is to blame. I feel like shit too but the bright side is that even if Tony got hit and is lying in a hospital bed as bad as he looks right now we can say he's alive and still willing to fight. So I say why shouldn't we? He stopped that missile and maybe it was intended for him but regardless he stopped it before it hit us. It sucks I know but there's not much we can do at the moment but pray."

Steve managed a smile even though his eyes haven't changed since leaving the hospital. His usually bright blue eyes remained dark and void of life even when he spoke of retaining hope. It's just at the moment nobody knew what their next move was, except maybe the mystery man who sent the present to their home in the first place.

"You're right Captain, like always but it really makes my blood boil knowing that after all we did for this planet a few days ago it still doesn't change the fact that some people just want to watch the world burn."

Bruce's voice intensified which startled Steve. A hint of green surfaced in some spots. But he was able to suppress his urges. He'd come too far to just up and lose it in some hospital parking lot.

"We're going to find who did this, no matter what." Steve said in a vengeful tone as they walked up to the curb he held out a hand and hailed a cab that would take them back home. After all they needed to let everyone in on the good news. One of the many yellow cabs in the city pulled up alongside the sidewalk close to the pair.

The driver was the stereotypical New Yorker kind, a heavy set and scruffy looking with what seemed like sweat stains on his shirt even though it hadn't been hot. All kinds of different knick knacks lining the dash board and the cab smelt a little funky but they didn't care, "where to?"

The driver said in a low tone, his voice matching his physique. He looked over his shoulder at the two men sitting in the back seats, looking for an answer. Upon laying eyes on them he noticed just exactly who the hero's in civilian clothing were, none other than Captain America and another fellow who wasn't so easily distinguishable.

"Umm it's an honor to have a hero of the city take a ride in my cab." The man could barely contain himself, usually when Steve was recognized he would have been a bit coyer. Most of the time he'd blush but something told him this wasn't the right time to be flabbergasted so he nodded in acknowledgment.

He looked up for a moment before he finally answered. "Can you take us to the Stark Tower please; it's urgent." The driver glanced at Steve in his rearview mirror as he spoke, his eyes shifting and settling on the man next to his right. He remained quiet and almost over of place until he looked up for a brief second back at him in the little strip of reflective glass. He could see bright glowing green eyes peek out from underneath his dark curls, menacing and full of a mixture of hurt and confusion.

It didn't take long before the cab driver realized just exactly who the other was in the car with him. It was that once gigantic green rage monster of a man sitting in the back of his cab. In a way he was even more honored but more so terrified than anything else. He put his car in gear and they went on their way near pushing the speed limit.

Steve sighed in his seat, some of the anger and vengeful feeling settled back inside for next time he needed it. Now he needed to focus more on what was around him and he needed a clear head for that. He shifted his look over to Bruce who was hunched over slightly, gripping his pant leg.

"You good," he said before placing a hand on his shoulder. The other shifted slightly but nodded, taking in a deep breath before leaning his head back against the head rest. His eyelids were closed tightly until a moment passed and he opened them back again. The bright green tinge slowly melted into his usual soft brown eyes. "Just stressed out but I can handle it, I promise."

His answer relieved more than just Steve, the driver seemed to be holding his breath ever since laying eyes on the Hulk and seemed to gasp for more as he turned the corner. Banner's words seemed to reassure both of them for the time being, his duller eyes being the proof of that. It wouldn't take much longer before they got back.  
...

The duo arrived at the tower around 1:40 in the morning. It seemed like since they'd been gone it had been abandoned altogether. The only thing that still showed signs of life was the bright light coming from the top floor window. They knew the others were still waiting for them probably expecting the worse since they have yet to get a call or a word for that matter about anything. It left them to once their wits and imagination; some would over power the other one.

It was eerily silent which in itself made it uncomfortable to enter. It felt like there was a weight that hung in the air above them, something near ghostly that held their soul in its grasp. They shifted the uneasiness along with the open doors. The team was the only ones occupying the tower today. Tony being a generous boss gave his staff a celebratory day off, which in turn became more of a week but it didn't really matter. The tower was pretty much under reconstruction as well as repurposing.

They were greeted by an unwelcomed trail of blood. It seemed to stain the areas where it wasn't so thick and remain pooling in other spots and running along the seams in the tile. How Tony was even able to remain conscious let only alive was a mystery. Their eyes stayed glued to the liquid, making extra careful to avoid it as they entered. Like somehow stepping in it was some sort of taboo.

Each foot step they took on the marble tile made an eerie echoing sound that bounced off every wall in the lobby. It was too quiet. It made Bruce think of the very same places he used to hide in while on the run not so long ago. It was abandoned and gloomy but it wasn't like it was trashed or anything. It actually gave him a sense of home even when he did look down at the floor. It gnawed at him and reminded him of something he didn't want to think about at the moment.

Steve traced the blood back to its source, the elevator. It was smeared up against the metal door and coated the floor in front of it. He looked down at his hand once he noticed the bloody print that suck out from between the seam. It was his. At the time he'd been in such a hurry that being neat wasn't much of a priority at the time. He followed the trail, which seem to make time rewind. He could paint a mental picture in his head like he was watching himself disparately rush out the small space.

Blood falling in large quantities by then, the prints made by feet scuffing around him. Trailing the red in all directions, if he didn't know any better he would have thought he was staring back at a crime scene. Like some sick bastard gutted his victim and attempted to paint a picture with the precious copper liquid that sustained life.

"Let's take the stairs Steve," Bruce said already walking in that direction. Steve finally let his hand drop back down to his side and followed the other without uttering a word. Everything happened so fast it was like none of it was actually real. That there wasn't blood spread out in every direction behind them. That one of their friends was fighting for his life even when he gave them the impression that he was perfectly fine.

Even since leaving the hospital couldn't shake that uneasy feeling he had. He was able to push it down and ignore it for a bit but it was beginning to eat at him. " _..I can't.._ " What did that mean? What was he trying to tell me? It was like he was afraid of closing his eyes or something. Maybe that's why he forced himself to stay conscious when it would have been easier to drift off and not feel anything for a while.

He lifted his head as the sound of a door shutting. Ultimately realizing that Bruce was already headed up the stairs and he was left alone. It was quiet and dark the last thing he wanted was to be left alone with his thoughts. He grabbed the handle and pulled the door that led to the stairs open. He paused for a moment and glanced back before walked in. A streetlight that stood out in front of the building cast a dull yellow light through the numerous windows. It reflected off of the dark liquid sprawled out on the floor. Somehow it made the dark gloomy room looked almost beautiful in a way. Kind of like a painting that had no title.

He turned his head back around to the column off stairs and let the door close behind him. He could hear Bruce's footsteps above his as he continued to climb the seemingly endless stairwell. Steve hustled up the flits as if it were cake, eventually passing Bruce even if he had a couple minutes head start. He was just too fit to keep up with so he continued at his regular pace; it wasn't like it was a race or anything.

…

Steve waited at the top of the stairs for his not so fit companion to join him. He thought it was only right to go in together, at least that way he wouldn't be the only one to get bombarded by questions. He paced for a moment thinking over what he was going to say. It was good news but why was it so hard to put it into words. The image of Tony discolored skin nearly made his stomach turn over again. The truth is he didn't know if he was going to be ok. He seemed like he was going to be strong and fight but he couldn't shake the feeling.

It was that look on his face. In a way he could tell there was something he had been hiding from them. He seemed frightened which is understandable but through the entire ordeal he seemed hardly phased, yet he was afraid to get put under. The quicker he could reassure the other the quicker he could get some rest and see his in the morning with the lot of them.

He sighed as the other was coming up the stairs completely out of wind. "You good?" he asked not helping the smile growing on his face as he watched Bruce hunching over to catch his breath. His curly hair a mess and stuck to the sweat on his face. "Yea yea I'm fine, just not used to climbing a thousand stairs like a super soldier."

"I'll make sure to start a training regiment with you as soon as we finish up here," Steve said as he helped the man steady himself to his feet. "You know that's very generous of you but I'm more of the brain and the backup muscle in desperate situations. I don't think it'll wise to over work me. You know I don't have the temperament. "He let out with staggered breathing as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Steve chuckled once more before grabbing the handle to the top floor. They were met with two all too eager spies nearly falling on top of them as they opened the door. It had been obvious that they'd been ease dropping on the two of them through the door. There was a look of worry on their faces but not as intense as Steve's from the hospital. Them being processionals at obtaining information and deciphering a situation based on speech patterns alone, they could already tell from their laid back attitude that they had good news to share. But they still needed to hear his words before they could finally relax.

After all they had been waiting hours for any sort of word and this was the first time they were getting anything remotely close to news. It was safe to say they were a little on edge. They made way for the other two to enter and silently waited for them to speak. Steve could sense the tension in the air and did the only thing that would alleviate it. "He's fine," he said flashing a genuine smile before heading to the couch. Thor was passed out on the right side. So much for being a god, it's kind of pathetic that he couldn't even stay up passed 2:30. Oh well it can't be helped, if anything it was kind of a blessing in disguise. The last thing he needed right now was an overjoyed Asgardian. He gets enough of that on a regular basis since they've been working together.

He sat on the opposite side careful not to wake him; the others followed and sat opposite of Steve. Bruce rested his head against the cushions, happy to be back at home. Clint and Natasha sat next to him on the other side of the couch quietly before they felt the need to break the silence. "What happened, Steve?" Natasha said timidly not entirely sure if she wanted the answer. Despite the way he and Bruce spoke outside the door, his face still showed melancholy. Steve let out another held sigh before answering, not really wanting to think about it let alone retell the whole story.

"Where do I begin, we rushed to the hospital and he went into surgery I couldn't really tell you what happened in the ER but when the doctor came out he said it was close but he was going to make it. After a while they let us go in and see him, he was a little pale but for the most part he was still fighting." Steve withheld telling them about the fact that he forced himself right after being stitched back together or the fact that side looked worse than bruised fruit. The important thing they needed to know was that he was alive.

"Thank God, I'll have to admit you had me going there. That look you had on your face was kind of like if you saw a ghost or something, had me a little worried." Natasha admitted as she linked her hands behind her head. You could see the reassurance wash over her face when Steve finished talking. Who knew they'd all care for Tony as much as they did, of all people it was the greedy Iron man they were worried about. I guess when you've spent as much time around him as they did you kind of get the feeling something's missing without him around. The atmosphere around them felt off.

He wasn't all that bad, he's really has improved since he went off the grid not that long ago, him being the only one who truly knew what happened while in Afghanistan. There's no telling what kind of horrors he endured out there. That thing in his chest was a mystery in itself. He never really liked to talk about that either, anytime he was asked about it he would trail off into some kind of overly complicated technical lingo that even Natasha couldn't keep from boring her.

So in the end he avoided every question that bombarded him about what happened then as well as the anything more indebted about his condition other than the fact the arc reactor was keeping shrapnel from ripping his heart into shreds. He told the press all he wanted them to know when he got back and then sealed himself away letting that be the end of it. He never seemed to be the selfless type but since a few days ago when and alien armada came through the sky above the tower he did what nobody else expected. He took it upon himself to be the one to take a horrible situation and turn it in their favor.

They all held a matter of respect for Tony. He was truly a hero and an amazing man who didn't deserve to be put in this situation. Who knows how many times he'd avoided death already. He was going to make it through this.

"Well if everything's good for now then I'm going to follow Thor's example and hit the hay." Clint said before standing to his feet and yawning real big, which always gave Nat the urge to sock him right in the gut. Him being one of the sharpest agents shield had to offer, still never saw it coming and the reaction was always priceless. But she refrained remembering that it never ended well. He walked off whipping the sleepy tears away from his eyes.

After a short period of time light snoring could be heard from the other side of Natasha. Bruce fell asleep with his head resting on his palm, similar to when they were back at the hospital. The two who remained conscious looked over to the source and simultaneously chuckled at the sight. Drool was running down his forearm which made it harder for them to contain their laughter. At risk of waking the demigod to his left Steve remained silent, Nat did the same.

"What's the deal with him" she said, allowing herself to let out a small chuckle. "He tired because he ran up a few flights of stairs. It's ok though he was falling asleep in the waiting room anyway. It's probably a good idea we follow his and Clint's example and hit the hay." Steve stood up, stretching out his muscles in his arms before maneuvering around the coffee table. He was about to walk past Natasha but she held out her arm and caught him before he could get past her. He stopped and looked down at her with a puzzled look.

"Wait before we call it a night I have to tell you something." Natasha all of a sudden said real serious. Steve nodded and sat back down next to her. "You saw how Tony's armor had been pierced right? It was almost like it was tinfoil or something. It nearly went right through him if it wasn't as thick as it was." Steve held a look similar to the one on her face, of course he could tell. He was taught to be perceptive during a time of urgency, although he really didn't want to be reminded of that at the moment. If anything he wanted to replace that image with a better one, hopefully the sight of the usual over confident and prideful Stark he first met. Even if he was annoying, that was better than the broken one he'd witnessed earlier that evening.

"Yes I noticed that," he trailed off slightly hoping she would get to the point she was trying to make. He was really tired. It was hard enough to keep his eyes open let alone focus on Natasha. "What I wanted to tell you was the thing that pierced his armor was Vibranium. The same stuff your shield is made out of." Whatever was lulling Steve asleep dissipated and was replaced with something else. Why would something as like that be hidden in a missile? He narrowed his eyebrows at the red head in front of him who was waiting for a response. Although that was probably the reaction she was looking for. "Why?"

She shrugged with no idea other than what was obvious. It was an initial attack meant for Tony and they fell for it. He was the prime target and there was no helping that. "Well touch on this tomorrow, just though I should let you know. We should get some rest so we can see Tony in the morning." Natasha said before she herself stood up yawning. She placed a hand on Steve's shoulder before walking off.

Steve was left alone with two snoring team mates and the sudden feeling of restlessness. He glanced around the room before feeling the need to head to his room. He walked around the couch passed a sleeping Banner and noticed the tint of red on the tile. He stepped around it and grabbed his shield that was on the other side. _"Steve.. I'm scared.."_ Those words rung in his ear, he could almost picture himself cradling the blood drenched Tony.

He thumbed his shield before pushing the image to the back of his head. He turned on his heel and headed for the hallway, dimming the lights on his way out. The tower has never been this silent, whether it was Thor carrying on with some story from another world or Jarvis giving constant updates on a certain project. Even when Bruce and Tony go into a heated argument over some kind of scientific mumbo jumbo he did quite understand. Any sort of noise felt more comforting than bitter silence.

He pushed open the door to the room Tony had been gracious enough to let him use. He flicked on the light and leaned his shield up against the side of his nightstand. There were all sorts of things covering his bed; magazines, books, a laptop that Tony gave him to research on. Just anything he could use to learn about what he'd missed. He shoved everything to the side and threw the covers over to the side. He pulled his tank top off and tossed it in the corner of the room before flipping the switch to pitch black.

He shuffled back over to his bed, careful not to bump into anything. He stuck a hand out to feel the soft silk sheets and allowed himself to embrace them face first. He buried his face in his pillow feeling the cold cloth from not being unused all day. It relaxed his tensed body. He could feel his body urging him to sleep, yet his mind continued to run a mile a minute. Constantly thinking about his friend, whether he was alright or not, if he was still breathing or if the worst had already happened and he wasn't there. Honestly he could understand how the others were able to fall asleep like they did. He cracked his eyelids open to look that the clock, it read 3:28 am, which meant he only had to lie there for 4 more hours and 32 minutes until he could see his friend again. Hopeful he would be in better shape than when he left him.


	9. Somnia

_Where I am? I can feel a chill running up my spine, making every little hair stand on end. Where are the others? I wonder if they know what's going on. I can't open my eyes, whether it's against my own will or otherwise I am blinded. I feel weightless as if I were stuck floating a vast ocean. This is weird. I can't feel anything. 'Jarvis,' I call out._

 _No answer. I'm not surprised. I'm in trouble aren't I? Nothing other than utter silence rings in my ear other than the sound of my shallow yet steadily growing breaths._

 _I'm surrounded by total darkness I can feel it I don't even need to see it, nothing but the cold, quiet void of empty space. My hands begin to shake. I've never been this far from my comfort zone I don't know what to do. I have a pretty good idea what's around me. I chose to be oblivious rather than its counter; after all it's a better state than panic. I feel nothing just weightlessness and the absence of oxygen in my lungs as I continue to drift._

 _This is a scary place, I don't want to be here anymore, but I don't know where else to go I'm stuck. I feel like I'm in an endless loop, no matter how much effort I decide to put forth I am nothing more than a hamster running on its wheel. There is nothing, no destination although the tower would suffice. Like that was even a choice. There is nothingness in every direction I'm sure. None of which was more comforting than my current position._

 _I feel like I am not breathing though there wouldn't be any reason to draw a breath. As if I were in a state of suspended animation. In a way I have a strong sense that I've been left to parish. I refuse, especially not in the dark lonely place. I am determined to find a way out and help the others. Alas I cannot move. But I must find a way out of here. I am needed back home._

 _I do something I have yet to think of, for the sheer thought of it chilled my still form. I finally open my eyes. I was right. There was a sight far worse than that of pitch black. It was in open space littered with stars and debris floating over head. In some instances it might have been more comforting than absolute nothingness. But that wasn't the most disturbing aspect. There it was, the Chitauri._

 _I am back in space. Home was in the opposite direction and I was facing an armada in which I have no means of defending myself. The suit is no longer responding, blatantly unable to correspond once on another plan. Jarvis stopped talking to me and I am left with only my thoughts. Although pessimistic they were there, speaking to me. They're coming at me, their target: the small hole I assume was still behind me and well beyond my reach._

 _Our last means of hope were sent from the government which originally was meant to obliterate us all and our home. With quick thinking I threw it right where it needed to be. Up at the mother ship and hoped for the best._

 _A blinding light distorts my vision as a drift back, the shock of the explosion expelling me. I'm out of it. Everything fades back to black. I don't know where I am anymore. I'm lost yet again. I think. Am I dead? Is this hell, just one constant reoccurring sadistic void of darkness? Emptiness._

 _It happens all over again like a reoccurring dream. Each time I get closer and closer to the dangers. I can almost feel the heat and then nothing. Quiet. This will happen a few times over before I begin to wriggle and sweat. Even after each time I see it I can never get used to it. The only difference is I know when it's coming. I'll never get used to feeling of falling, completely out of control. The nightmares never seem to cease._

 _Although every now and again I'll reach a resolve and make it back to the Earth. No recollection, seeming as though it were merely a skip in time. Just with a bang and I'm faced down in the ruble, such a pitiful state for the so called genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. All titles to mask the broken man who carries them. In reality I'm the most fragile one that hides beneath a layer of overconfidence, locked away inside of a shell of metal. Weak._

 _I was never cut out to be the hero. Someone who spends the majority of his life manufacturing articles of war doesn't deserve to be speculated. Subconsciously creating the tools for the other guys to attack us with, killing innocence. I will never stand for that kind of disbelief ever again. So long as my body draws breathe it will never happen again._

 _He likes to believe he's making a difference in the world, when in fact he completely ignore the fact that he was the one that helped make it that way in the first place. I suppose that's why he contributes to self poisoning with every dose of alcohol. It helps dull the guilt that lingers within him._

 _I am still again. Broken. I think I am home but I cannot see anything. I am heavy and I can't breathe. Frozen. Am I back in the void? No, I can see Pepper crying. I hear the muffled sobs that refuse to be contained behind a pair of soft hands. And Rhodey with that blank almost dead look in his eyes. This must be what it's like when you die. Others around you suffer. I'd hate to believe that anyone really cared that much. Most only look out for their best interests. Or at least it would be easier if they did._

 _Even if that's so, I can't stand to see Pepper cry_. _She's always been there for me. I can't just up and leave her alone. It would be selfish of me. Then again, I was well known for being a self centered egotistic jerk. So maybe it wouldn't be so bad, if I died?_

 _The blue tinge of my arc reactor slowly blinked on. Like someone hitting the switch to a light in an old abandoned building. They couldn't have been happier once it finally flicked back to life. I jerked awake at the roar of an angry green giant standing over me. I don't know where I am. Oh I remember. Alien attack. Falling from the sky. Surrounded by people dressed in costumes. I remember now. I almost died. Almost._

 _I thought this was over with, all this hero stuff back and forth saving and risking lives, a onetime contract. It's exhausting. I'm tired. Why can't I just drift off back into sweet oblivion. Quiet no worry, a peaceful serenity. Oh I know. There are still things to be done. Old ghosts I have yet to deal with, things to build and lives to improve, people to look after. I can't die, at least not yet._

 _I remember where I am now, stuck in my head again. This is a bad place to be, in my dreams. A place I know is false yet then again doesn't stop it from feeling any less real. The same reoccurring thoughts cross my mind. I hate this place it's supposed to be a place of comfort but that's never been the case. I only feel anxiety. Fear._

 _I can feel a sharp pain. It's overwhelming I can't stand it, and in my subconscious no less. Something is very wrong and I don't know why. I can feel myself wriggling with discomfort. It's so bad it forces me to wake up and deal with the issue firsthand._

 _..._

Tony woke up gasping for air. Every inhale burned like an inferno. He was in such unimaginable amount of pain he could hardly think. Gripping the sheets with whatever strength he had left, unable to keep the cries from remaining contain. That didn't prevent him from trying; he bit his lip and muffled them best he could. He hated pity and he wasn't about to submit to this feeling how unbearable it may be.

He forced his eyes open finally, it was dark. Too dark, if it weren't for the light beeping from machines and blue tint on the ceiling he would of had to deal with a full on panic attack as well as his injures. He felt the need to sit up. He needed to see the light in his chest still glowing. Feel it and know this wasn't a dream anymore. He moved one hand and touches the brightly lit glass in his chest it brought him comfort to know it was real, even if it did bring with it the dread of why it was there in the first place.

Between gasps for air he gave the room another look over and noticed a small digital clock in the corner. It read 4:46 am. Slowly the why of him being there was returning to him. The alcohol in his system had completely dissipated by now especially with the aid of numerous medications. Just the throbbing headache and horrible pain remained. It was too much to bear; he felt he needed to move even if I was just a little. He grasped the rail of the bed to hoist himself up.

"Where..?" His voice was harsh and scratchy and he tried to contain the cough lurking within his throat. But to no prevail, he hacked what seemed like his other good lung in a fit. His entire body pulsed in agony. The flexing core as he coughed only made it feel like he getting stabbed a thousand times over. He managed to cover his face with his palm before he unable to so. He felt something wet seep into his skin.

Once he could keep the coughing at bay he gave up his attempts to sit up and let his head sink back into the pillow. He felt every inch of his burning insides as the slowly settled back down as well. Pained tears worked down the sides of his cheeks although he wouldn't want them too. With the rest of his efforts he lifted his hand to wipe them away. It crossed over the light cast from the reactor the substance on his palm reflected. It showed dark liquid against the blue glow. He knew exactly what it was.

His heart began to race yet again as his eyes widened at the sight. Blood ran from his palm down the length of his wrist. He couldn't help but think the worst. That maybe his dream was a warning of his imitate demise. He needed to know where the others were. He needed to see them.

Against his better judgment he mustard his strength and hauled himself up. Every inch of his body screamed in disagreement but he ignored it. He grunted painfully, his body warn and tender.

After some time a doctor entered the room. The heart monitor sent an alert to his station that his patient was in distress, which he clearly was. Tony was hunched over the side of the bed bordering about passing out or puke. His oxygen mask was removed and dangling down at his side. The only thing still filling his lungs was the thin tubing fixed in his nose.

Red trickled down his chin profusely all over the bed spread and white tile in front of him. He hacked slightly from the pressure that set on this good side. The doctor rushed over and carefully pulled him back in his bed. Tony winced and panted best he could manage, blood thinly trickling down with chin. His eyes were unfocused and darting around the room.

Once his patent was settled the doctor then rummaged through several drawers before pulling out a little vile and a syringe. Since he found what he was looking for he rushed over to Tony and pierced the covering of the vile and filled the needle with dull yellow liquid.

A shaky yet firm hand reached out and grasped the wrist of the doctor before he was able to inject the substance into the IV. His finger tips dug into his sleeves as he lifted his head to look him in the eyes.

"No sedatives.." He managed through clenched teeth, wincing at what few words he could manage. The doctor only gave him a confused look. It didn't make any sense to him. It was obvious he was in a substantial amount of pain.

"But Mr. Stark, This will make the pain easier. You need to rest. I promise you'll feel like a million bucks when you wake up." He insisted but not moving from his spot; waiting for a signal of some kind to reassure him he understood.

"I.. don't want to.. go back to sleep.." The doctor looked into his patient's eyes and saw something that should never be there, pure terror. Tony Stark wasn't afraid of anything. He took on an alien armada just a few days ago. He thought to himself. The countless terrorist he'd single handily taken out, and yet he was afraid of going to sleep? It was odd but he wasn't one to judge a man who helped save the planet.

He acknowledged his request and set the needle down on the side table, trying to comfort the other best he knew how. He took his shoulder and he could tell he was shaking. Whatever he was dreaming about surely disturbed him. There's no telling what goes on in the genius head of his.

Blood still ran from his chin while he silently painted. He continued to shudder underneath the blankets. The doctor held up a hand and felt Tony's forehead. He could tell a growing fever from the radiating heat from his temple. As for the blood well that wasn't a surprise. His lung has yet to fully heal. Bleeding was bound to happen time to time.

"Lye still or else you'll opened up the rest if your wound." He said as he walked to the cabinets, pulling out another small bottle and syringe. "Don't worry. I'm not going to put you to sleep or anything this is just going to ease the pain. Is that ok Mr. Stark?"

He approached cautiously this time and waited for some sort of answer. Tony looked at the needle then back at the doctor and managed a small nod. It was enough of course but every little movement brought with it a shudder of pain. No matter how subtle it was it still hurt like hell.

The doctor injected the now clearer liquid into the split in the IV. Small swirls sprawled out every which way. It looked almost surreal as it began to flow in one single direction, eventually leading into his veins and blood stream. He then took a cloth with antiseptic and wiped the red away from his still clenched jaw.

After a few minutes it had taken its full effect. Tony's eyes became less strained, his muscles relaxed and the stern look his face had held slacked into a softened, peaceful one. His breathing became more steadied and controlled. Having once been hunched over the side of the bed in complete agony, now allowed himself to be settle back under the covers by a man he didn't know.

"What's your name?" He let out slowly as he was being examined yet again. This man looked up in surprise at the sudden interest in him of all things. Doctors in some instances were meant to be seen and not heard. That is unless when delivering bad news to patents or loved ones. Considering Tony had never liked going from his early checkups he really hated to be in this position. Mostly the bed ridden thing, but he could tell there was an awkward conversation just waiting to be stirred up.

The doctor redirected his gaze back towards the slightly shifted and stained bandages that wrapped the man. He looked almost like a mummy at the waist. He pulled out a small pair of surgical scissors and began cutting the cloth away. "My name is Hector sir."

Tony smiled at the man. He had to of been no more than 22 from the looks of him. He seemed like a kind hearted person and smart to of been a doctor at his age. Then again by the time he was his age he was building turn of the century warheads, but impressive none the least. He could feel the cold steal scissors as the glided above his bruised skin. He was still debating whether or not it felt relaxing or the polar opposite. The touch nearly made him want to shift under it. He alleged to ignore it.

"Well aren't you going to ask for my name?" He suddenly said breaking the silence. The other look slightly confused, like it was a question that really didn't need to be asked. Everyone knew who Tony Stark was. It would have been asinine if he hadn't.

"I know who you are. Everyone knows who you are Mister Stark, the incredible Iron man who saved the city just a few days ago. You're a hero sir." A genuine smile never left his face as he continued to work.

"Huh I guess so." He seemed to daze off a bit, the thought of that battle still haunting him even though he'd been awake. The thought of sleeping and potently reliving those nightmares over and over again terrified him. 'A hero? More like a frightened puppy..' he thought.

He snapped back to reality before the man even noticed he was completely out of it for a moment. A drew a now faker smile on his lips as he worked to push the nagging uneasiness into the back of his mind. He took in a deep breath, well as deep as he could manage without hurling over or becoming comatose out of the stress put on his body.

"What's with the formality? No one else's here but us, so just call me Tony. After all we're just two people living and breathing side by side on this planet of ours." He said barley threw his teeth as he looked up at the nearly blacked out ceiling. Only a single part of it was lit thanks to the small lap to his side.

His eye lids weighed heavily along with dark circles but he refused to let them fall, however exhausted he may be. He was not looking forward to hellish slumber. "Umm uh Tony? Are you feeling alright? I mean other than you know hole in your side. You know despite my age I tend to pick up things rather quickly. So why is it you don't want to go back to sleep?"

Young Hector finished patching up the soiled wrapping and just sat back examining the man in his care. Tony thought for a moment wondering whether or not he should answer the man at his side. He really didn't want to go into it. If it was possible he wished the feeling would have died along with the Chitauri. Never to be brought up again. Doesn't seem like that would be an option in this case, however this didn't mean he had to share every detail if any at all.

He took in a shaky breathe before deciding to give an answer. "Just a bunch of stuff I wish I could forget. Old ghosts I guess." It was becoming a far too familiar feeling lately. At first it was simply the time he spent in Afghanistan, being torture and made a slave to build weapons; nothing but a useful commodity who was only good for crafting articles of war. I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree in that department.

But now it's gotten way out of hand. There were things out there too big for any of us. I mean they got extremely lucky the first time but that's an understatement. How is anybody supposed to just walk away from what happened that day. Our entire world has been turned upside down and now all kinds of craziness is happening all around. No sane person could walk out of that unaffected. So I guess that sums up where Tony's sanity lies, up there in that hole that opened up over the city.

What came out was an even more distorted version of the once known man of iron, now riddled with a PTSD that no one on the Earth could even begin to fathom. The curse of a never ending nightmare that is constantly haunting his sleeping form and slowly working to destroy his waking one with anything he can, alcohol being his main poison. Tony's face slowly became stern and troubled at the thought of it all. It was too much even for someone as ingenious as him to handle.

Hector could tell that the question was a little much for his patient to deal with at the moment and he had a pretty good idea why. He couldn't even begin to imagine what kind of stuff he's been through and now this. Whatever was eating at him must have taken quite a huge chunk. "Better clean up this mess. Surly you don't want your friends to worry anymore than they already have over something like this."

"Sorry about that." Tony admitted half regretting and half embarrassed as he watched the man hunching over with a towel to sop up the blood on the floor. He thought himself better than that, letting a panic attack getting the best of him and blinding his judgment. He could have killed himself with an idiotic act like that. You can't just simply walk out of a hospital the night after having major surgery. That doesn't happen, even for iron man. Even with all the money in the world he was only flesh and blood, proof of which was scattered on the floor below him.

"It's no problem really. I've dealt with worse. Sure beats the hell out of bed pan duty." Hector said unable to keep himself from chuckling. Tony smiled, refraining himself from anymore unnecessary movement. In this case laughter was not the best medicine. After a few carefully calculated scrubs the mess was gone, almost like it never happened.

Hector collected the used cloth and set everything back in pristine condition for when he left. "So when I looked you over it seems like you popped a few of your stitches. For now I put a bridging tape on that area to keep it held together. If you can promise me that you'll stay in that bed from now on I won't call the staple guy in here until the morning. Save you a little extra discomfort.

"Thank you Hector, sorry to be such a pain in the ass this late." He heard the man scoff at his remark, obviously unprepared for it. The fact of the matter was he didn't want to move even if he could, the medication made him almost mend into the covers. Hector nodded his head and exited the room leaving Tony in silence yet again. He rolled his eyes back over to the digital clock, 5:16 am.

He blinked once again to see if the time would change any quicker but it didn't. At this point he had two choices. One he could go back to sleep and let the sun or staff wake him up, even worse his subconscious. Or lie awake and wait till morning. Right option two it is. He let his head weight back into the pillow and stared up at the ceiling. The reactor in his chest a constant night light, yet it did no justice in scaring away the monsters. He sighed figuring it would be better to get his mind off the subject and distract himself.

The thought of his friends came flooding into his half asleep mind. 'I wonder if they'll show up in the morning. Hell they're probably glad to get me out of their hair for the night, if not longer.' He couldn't help but be pessimistic, it was in his nature. "I guess I'll just have to wait and see what tomorrow will bring. Well technically speaking today but whatever."

He ran a hand down his tightly bandaged side. Even with all the drugs running though him he could still feel the dulling sensation as his finger tips caressed the cloth covering. He didn't even want to know what it looked like, might even throw him back into a state of unwelcomed panic. No thank you.

'I wonder what Steve has to say to me, he looked kind of out of it when I last saw him. There's no telling what's going on with that guy. I don't even wanna know what Banners thinking in that hyperactive mind of his. Hell I'm not even entirely sure what happen. All I know was there was blood, muffled what seemed lots of screaming and the urge to nod off when I was too afraid to. Glad that's over with; maybe they can enlighten me when they come. If they come."


End file.
